The Year of the Doctor
by ThePotterDoctor
Summary: Clara Oswald is happy. Or so she insists. Her flatmate Nina thinks otherwise and is determined to set her up. But when Clara meets the Doctor, an experimental physicist who works with Nina, she realises that her life will never be the same again... AU Set in 2014. Rated M for language and smut.
1. Prologue

***Hello one and all! Welcome, to my new AU, The Year of the Doctor! This is going to be a nice, cheery, fluffy and hopefully smutty AU, set in 2014. The set up is fairly easy, one chapter for every month of 2014, plus this prologue. This means the chapters will most likely be longer (maybe 4000/5000 words we'll see). I'm going to post the chapters ASAP, but at most one a day. The next one (January) should be up tomorrow but no promises. Anyway, I really hope you guys like it, thanks for reading and please please let me know your thoughts on this prologue. Lots of love: The Potter Doctor***

* * *

**_December 31st 2014_**

_The last time Clara had been to this New Year's Party, she had been single, dragged along by her flat mate. Now…now she was going with a date. The word 'date' seemed so trivial after everything that had happened but she supposed that was what it was. They arrived at the party together, linking arms as they stepped out the back of the taxi, Clara blushing slightly as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. She moved in to straighten his bow tie. And then they were moving inside. The location was different to the previous year, but it all had the same feel to it, a bit stuffy, a bit lethargic and Clara still felt like an outsider. She clung a little closer to her date, who kissed the top of her head as she did so. He went to grab them drinks and suddenly she was alone in the insanity of the party, people locked in conversation, nobody so much as giving her a second glance. She wasn't surprised. She wasn't special or well-known. She only felt special when she was with him. _

_He was coming back towards her now, his black suit undone and two champagne glasses, one in each hand. He was grinning like a twelve year old child, the grin that she had fallen in love with. He handed her a glass and she sipped from it tentatively, blushing slightly as his hand lingered on hers for just a moment longer than it needed to, extenuating the contact between them. As she sipped, he took a deep breath and hopped up and down slightly. She raised an eyebrow at his odd behaviour._

_"You alright?" she asked, putting her free hand on his shoulder. He didn't quite flinch away from the contact, but she had no doubt in her mind it still had the same electrifying effect on him that it did on her, even after so long. _

_"Fine," he replied with a shaky smile. "I'm just nervous."_

_"Nervous about what?" Clara laughed. "Don't tell me you believe this nonsense about 2015 being the end of the world?" she snorted and he chuckled nervously. _

_"Don't be stupid!" he sounded genuine, so clearly it was something else bothering him. Clara looked him up and down, trying to assess exactly what was wrong with her boyfriend. She could normally tell, so it was slightly frustrating that her radar was so off. "It's just…tonight is a big night is all."_

_"Okay then," Clara rolled her eyes. He could be very cryptic when he wanted to be. But that was alright, he could be as cryptic as he wanted. She didn't care, she loved him. She was hungry, so she shot over to the food stand to grab some nibbles, collating Pringles like they were fairy dust. She could see him watching her and blushed, grabbing a handful of pigs in blankets and passing them to him. He shovelled them into his mouth and muttered something completely unintelligible. Clara patted his arm playfully. She glanced up at the clock. It was 9:25. Just over two and a half hours until midnight. _

_Clara set about mingling, looking for Nina. Her friend was always fashionably late; it was one of the many things that infuriated Clara about her. Still, she would have hoped that Nina would be here by now. She spent the next hour or so looking for Nina, whilst her better half chatted with some of his colleagues. It still weirded her out when he talked technical, it was like he was an entirely different person. And, as ever, she only understood about half of what he was saying. She had felt out of place last year and she didn't feel less out of place this year. Then, Nina came crashing in, a glass of champagne in hand and she squealed when she saw Clara, the two colliding in a fierce hug. _

_"I've not seen you since…" Nina trailed off with a grin. "How the fuck are things with that handsome man of yours?"_

_"Amazing," Clara replied, a smile lighting up her face. "Truly amazing. I can never thank you enough for…"_

"For dragging you to this same shitty party this time last year?" Nina snorted. "Don't mention it. It was my pleasure. I've never seen you happier Clara."

_"I've never been happier," she admitted. "It's good to see you Nina, it's been too long."_

_The two girls chatted away for what seemed like forever and before Clara knew it, midnight was approaching. It was 11:50 and she crashed into his arms, having had maybe one too many glasses of champagne. He chuckled as he caught her, smoothing out her dress and moving a stray strand of her fringe out of her eye. She smiled sweetly up at him and moved closer to him, so that they were barely a hair's breadth apart, completely oblivious to anyone else in the room. In the world. 11:52. _

_"Ready for 2015?" he asked with a cheeky look on his face. _

_"It can't be better than 2014," she answered, the smile creeping wider so that it almost consumed her face. He blushed at that, as she had expected him to. One whole year of knowing him, it hardly seemed possible. As the seconds ticked down, she felt him gradually moving away from her, giving himself a bit of breathing room. At first, she felt a touch disappointed. Then, as the clock hit 11:59, he stepped back properly and got down on one knee. Clara stopped breathing. Her heart stopped working. Everything stopped and there was only him, pulling something out of his pocket and saying words that barely registered in her brain._

_"Clara Oswald. I may have only known you for a year, but it has been the best year of my life and I would not trade a second of it for anything in the world. I know you feel the same way that I do. So, Clara Oswald, I think you know what's coming next. Will you marry me?"_

_The clock struck midnight. Happy New Year._

* * *

**_Twelve months earlier…_**

Clara Oswald sat in her bedroom, curling her hair lightly. As she wrapped another strand of chocolate brown hair around the wand, tugging at it gently so that it fell perfectly into place, she once again considered making an excuse to not go. It wasn't as if Nina needed her to go, not really. Nina insisted that she didn't know that many people, but Clara sensed it was something more than that. It had been six months since she had kicked Danny out and moved in with Nina, and in that time, her oldest friend had spent a long time trying to convince her to get back on the horse. But Clara hadn't found anyone else. She didn't want to find anyone. She'd been on a handful of useless dates Nina had begged her to try, but they had all been disasters. The truth was, none of them were Danny and Danny had been perfect. On paper. Then, he'd slept with Lucy from down the shop and everything had unravelled. Clara was 27 and she had been with Danny for almost three years, living with him for over 18 months. Losing him had been a setback.

But she'd coped. She'd thrown herself into her work. Clara was a teacher at Coal Hill School and she loved it. The kids were great, the teachers were all nice and she'd made a good set of friends there. The only problem was Danny still worked there. Part of her had selfishly hoped he'd had the shame to quit after cheating on her, but she had never really expected him to leave. At least he was staying out of her way, desperate not to incur her wrath in front of the entire staffroom.

Nina had other ideas about what coping involved. Clara was happy, for the most part. She didn't feel as if anything was missing. Yes, there would be nights of staying up late, eating too much ice cream and crying at sad films, but she had been doing that before. Just with Danny. Nevertheless, Nina was determined to set Clara up with some bloke and she was convinced that that was what this party was about. However, Clara was sceptical of the quality of man she'd find at the New Year's Party for the Chemistry and Physics Departments at University College London. Nina worked in the Chemistry Department over at UCL; she had finished her Masters and was doing a PHD. Clara was invited to her party as Nina's plus one, though mostly it was just so older professors could bring along their partners. Clara highly doubted that there would be many faculty members young enough or eligible enough.

And yet, even as she reasoned out all the rational thoughts that were convincing her not to go, she figured that it couldn't hurt. After all, it was New Year, the biggest party night of the year and if she didn't go, then she'd just be sitting in her bedroom alone with a glass of wine. Whilst there was something inherently appealing to the idea, it would merely serve to perpetuate the idea that Nina had of her, as some lonely old spinster. It had been so long since Clara had dressed up nicely and gone out to drink and have fun.

Nina rapped on her door and Clara looked up. Her friend looked stunning, her jet black hair cascading down her back, the cream of the dress perfectly contrasting with her dark skin. She hadn't done her makeup yet, Clara noted, but Nina's eyes were still dazzling as they ran up and down Clara.

"Are you nearly ready?" Nina asked, a casualness to her voice. Nina was never the type to worry and Clara strongly suspected that even if she was ready, they wouldn't be leaving for another hour or so, because Nina was a firm believer in the idea of being fashionably late to everything and dragging Clara along with her mediocre pacing. It was somewhat infuriating.

"Nearly," Clara replied cheerfully. Her hair was almost finished now, hanging in ringlets around her shoulders and she was wearing her long, strapless crimson dress, shooting past her knees but clinging tight to her body. "Are we doing each other's makeup?"

"Nah," Nina rolled her eyes. "You never put enough on and then you always whine that I put too much on. Nice dress by the way."

"Ditto," Clara grinned, running a hand through her hair, trying to muss it up a little bit more as she scrunched mousse into it. Nina shot a look down at herself and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

"This old thing?" she was smirking now. "I just threw it on. Okay, I'll be doing my makeup in my room, come get me when you're done."

And then she left Clara alone to her thoughts. Clara focused on her makeup, allowing herself not to get torn up in another internal battle about how she was going to spend her night. It was too late to back down now. She'd go to Nina's stupid party and maybe flirt with a bloke or two to keep Nina happy and then tomorrow she could go back to being anti-social. She was back to work in a few days anyway, the Christmas break was almost over. She focused her energy on not stabbing herself in the eye as she applied eyeliner and mascara, flecks of black sticking to her eyelashes.

It took Clara another fifteen minutes before she was grabbing her handbag, slipping into her high heels, red to match the dress, and knocking on Nina's bedroom door. She heard a muffled shout of a response from Nina and about a minute later, her door flew open, almost knocking Clara clean out. She'd almost forgotten Nina's violent treatment of doors and just managed to step back in time. She looked incredible as Clara had expected, her makeup perfect. Whilst Clara didn't like it when Nina put that amount of makeup on Clara herself, she had to admit that it worked really well for Nina. Nina eyed Clara up and down, training her eye over every element of Clara's body. Clara hated it when she did that, it always made her feel so self-conscious. Eventually, Nina nodded.

"You look hot," she announced. Clara flushed red at that.

"Thanks," Clara replied with a weak smile. Compliments always disarmed her. "You too."

They left their flat and took the steps down to the bottom floor of their block, where the taxi Nina had booked was waiting for them. Their driver complained about them taking their time but Nina merely rolled her eyes and promised him a decent tip. The drive to the bar that had been rented out by the university consisted off Nina listing off blokes for Clara. It seemed that now she actually had Clara in the taxi, on her way to the event and it was too late for Clara to back down, she was going to relay her true purpose for the evening, as if Clara hadn't already guessed exactly what was coming.

"And then there's Steve!" Nina nattered. "He's really handsome, but maybe not the best track record, so perhaps play it cautionary with that one…"

Clara zoned her out, listening to the sounds of the streets of London instead, occasionally nodding when Nina mentioned a bloke that she considered especially viable. The names kept coming; one after the other, and Clara suspected that even if she had been paying attention, she still wouldn't have been able to remember over half of them. Eventually, the taxi pulled up outside the bar, Nina paid him and Clara was finally able to escape the conversation. She was eternally grateful for it.

Once she was into the bar, into the bowels of the party itself, she had to admit that she didn't feel any better, even locked arms with Nina, who seemed right at home. There were so many people, it was almost packed to the rafters and Clara recognised almost none of them, except one or two people that she'd met before, friends of Nina. She was hoping Nina wouldn't leave her to sink or swim, but she strongly suspected that that might be the case; her friend was very good at leaving her out to dry.

The two girls picked their way to the bar, where Nina ordered fancy champagne and Clara stuck with a cheap glass of wine, shrugging when Nina raised an eyebrow. On a teacher's salary, Clara wasn't exactly loaded. Neither was Nina, but she liked the finer things in life and wasn't about to let her overdraft stop her. As Clara sipped on her wine, Nina was going to town on her champagne. Clara tried to stick close to her friend, but Nina was like a ghost and very good at ditching Clara. The amount of house parties they had attended when they were younger that Clara had ended up alone at was unreal. One moment, Nina had been by her side, the next she was gone, probably making out with some bloke and Clara wouldn't see her again until the next morning. She had a strong suspicion that Nina was gone for good, but you could never tell with Nina.

Clara worked her way back, away from the bar, wine in hand, desperate to find a friendly face among the strangers. She felt hopeless and was starting to miss the idea of sticking on a shitty film and curling up in bed. Most of the people she was edging her way past were a lot older, most in their 40s at least, with the odd 30-something pegged around. They were all talking science as well, snippets of conversation shooting right over Clara's head. This was rapidly turning into her worst expectations of the night and cursed herself for letting Nina drag her into it. She eventually managed to find a quiet corner, with a handful of people and a loo. She finished her glass and threw herself into the Ladies, desperate for a piss suddenly and wanting to get out of that stuffy, alien atmosphere.

Clara caught sight of her reflection as she washed her hands. She had to admit, that she wasn't looking half bad. But she felt so small, that feeling multiplied when there were so many people around. She sighed and stepped out, back into the party. She looked around, despairing for anyone to start a conversation with. She caught sight of a man, around her age by the looks of it, sat alone with a beer and she crossed the distance between them, lingering awkwardly by his chair for a moment before thrusting herself into the chair next to him. He glanced awkwardly at her and then went back to staring at his drink. She took a deep breath and shifted her chair slightly to face him and stuck out a hand, going red as she did so.

"Hi!" she greeted. "Clara."

The man looked up, startled almost. He struck her as a physicist. He was wearing a purple tweed jacket and matching bow tie and he had crazy hair and an even crazier chin. He shuffled nervously with his bow tie and cleared his throat before shaking her hand.

"John," he replied in a quiet voice. "Most people call me the Doctor."

"Why do most people call you the Doctor?" Clara asked. This wasn't the way she had expected the conversation to go, but her interest was piqued.

"Because whenever anyone in the department needs anything fixed…" he shrugged. "I'm your guy. I'm guessing you're Chemistry, I've not seen you around the department and I have a pretty good memory for faces."

He didn't strike her as a confident person. He was still talking in that fairly quiet voice, so low that Clara strained to hear him. He rarely looked at her, far more interested in his knees and he kept fiddling with his bow tie, as if it would ever be straight. Clara almost wanted to straighten it herself, it was infuriating her so much, but that would probably startle the complete stranger she had desperately tried to grapple into awkward conversation.

"No I'm not Chemistry," Clara replied in a conversational tone, checking her watch to see how long it was until midnight and until she could make her excuses and leave. Too long was the answer. "I'm an English teacher, I'm just here for a friend. Who has left me to rot, so it seems." Clara hadn't meant to unleash her frustration at Nina onto this Doctor, but it was impossible to keep the frustration out of her voice. The Doctor raised an eyebrow and Clara bit her lip. "Sorry, it's just annoying, I've been left alone on New Year's."

"I know how you feel," he replied with a sigh. "I was sick of being alone, so I came to this stupid party and look how much of a failure that turned out to be. I wished I'd stayed at home, watching rubbish online and trying to quantify some coordinates. Life sucks."

Clara found herself nodding at that. It looks like they had something in common then. He managed to pluck up the courage to look her in the eyes and she was able to pick out the gold flecks in his startling green eyes. She felt her cheeks pinking up and smiled at him warmly, a smile he returned.

"Well we're both here," Clara said, more bravely than she felt. "We might as well make the most of it. Can I get you a drink?"

It was his turn to flush, but he didn't stammer or flail his words, as Clara had half-expected.

"That is a wonderful attitude to take, Clara," he said her name delicately, like it was a rose petal. "I wish I had your optimism. I will however, take you up on your offer for a drink."

They crossed back to the bar and Clara ordered two glasses of champagne, suddenly feeling more adventurous and hoping that Nina wasn't watching her or she'd never live it down. She chinked glasses with the Doctor and they started drinking. She half-expected him to choke on the champagne but he saw it off quickly, a look of distaste in his eyes. Clara knew the type. He'd been a heavy drinker in the past, maybe some time recently. There were only a handful of reasons one turned to alcohol like that. She didn't want to pry, but she made a mental note to ask Nina about it later, maybe she knew John from the Physics labs, called himself the Doctor.

"So John," she tried, watching his face to judge his reaction. He looked surprised but pleasantly so. Maybe he was so used to people calling him the Doctor, that he'd almost forgotten people called him by his real name. "What do you do at the university?"

"I'm an experimental physicist," he explained. "I finished my PHD five years ago, the university pays me a lot of money to occasionally publish a paper and spend my life developing technology for them. I get a lot of freedom to do what I love, which is really why I'm doing it."

"Freedom to do what you love," Clara repeated, mulling the words over in her head. "That sounds nice," she mused. He had a concerned look on his face and she snapped back to reality, returning to her champagne glass. "I love what I do," she clarified, to answer his unasked question. "But sometimes it can be a pain. The paperwork, the regulations…sometimes I wish teaching was simpler, just you and the kids," she admitted.

"You must really love children," John thought out loud. "To dedicate your life to them the way that you do."

Clara thought over that comment. She did love kids, she supposed. But she also knew what it was like to be a teenager and have your entire life collapse around you. She wanted to give something back, try to stop anyone feeling the way she felt at that age. She swept her hair out of her eye and smiled, nodding as she did so. She and the Doctor, as she took to calling him as he clearly looked uncomfortable when she called him John, talked for another hour or so, mainly about work but about other, more interesting topics as well. Then, Nina came crashing over, the clock struck midnight, and the evening was over.

Clara wasn't sure what to make of this John, the Doctor, whatever he called himself. He didn't ask her for his number and she didn't want to make the first move, so she awkwardly waved him goodnight and then followed Nina to the taxi. By the next day, she had almost completely forgotten him. He was just another nice guy, nothing special, nothing to think about again. She had absolutely no idea just exactly how wrong she was. Because she would see the Doctor again. And when she did…he would end up changing her life.


	2. January

***Hey guys! January time! First chapter of a new AU and I really hope you guys like it. I'm trying to capture different sides of Whouffle this time out, so the characters are going to be different to how we've seen them before. I really hope you guys like it! Anyway, February should be up tomorrow, and as ever, please please review and let me know what you think. Thanks so much to everyone who has already read, reviewed, followed and favourited. TPD***

* * *

Clara was back at work, back to the mundane processes of day to day life. Nina had backed off a bit since the New Year's party, but Clara could sense her friend planning something, she always was. Her friend from work, Tom, was constantly chirping in her ear about how Danny was seeing some new teacher, a trainee no less, barely twenty five. Clara couldn't care less. She was tired of hearing about Danny, having to think about Danny. She ended up snapping at Tom, which just made her feel bad for that. She was tired and pissed off within a week of returning to work and when Nina asked her if she fancied going out on Friday night, she couldn't say yes fast enough. Usually, Clara was used to turning down Nina's invitations, but the whole Tom/Danny situation, not to mention January exams, had left her stressed. She could see the relish on her flatmate's face when she said yes, Nina's eyes lighting up and Clara realising she may have made a mistake.

"Come in to the university," Nina insisted. "I finish at half 7 and we can go straight to a bar from there!"

Which was how Clara found herself, wearing a black jacket and long blue skirt, her hair and makeup all done up, standing outside a smoky chemistry lab. She frowned as Nina signalled something that she didn't understand with her hands and Clara decided just to leave her to it and go to find somewhere nearby to sit down and grab a cup of tea while she was waiting. She dropped Nina a text to tell her she was going to find a café.

She wasn't sure how she'd ended up in the Physics Department, but the physics and chemistry departments were so close to each other, whilst looking for a café, she'd ended up moving from one to the other. So when she finally crashed into a seat in the Physics café, she spotted a familiar face, sat alone on the table across from hers. He looked up and their eyes locked. He was frowning, as if trying to remember where he'd seen her and then his eyes lit up and he shot her a nervous smile. Clara bit her lip and then aired against the side of caution, standing up and plonking herself down opposite him at his table.

"John right?" she asked, sipping her cup of tea with a little glance over the cup at his face. Sure enough, he grimaced. "Can I ask you something?"

"Fire away…Clara?" he tested the water and when she nodded he sighed in relief.

"Why do you hate the name John?" she asked and watched as he flinched. "I mean I get that most people call you Doctor, but that's not because you can fix things. It's more than that. It's more than being used to being called the Doctor, you cling to that name. It means more than just a name people call you because you can fix stuff. So why do you hate your name?"

The Doctor frowned at her, sipping his tea and swilling it gently as he eyed her up. Clara immediately realised that she had struck a nerve and felt guilty, so she squirmed slightly in her seat as he weighed up a response. He fiddled with his blood red bow tie and Clara realised that it must have been a bad habit of his. Did he always wear bow ties?

"You're very observant Clara," he said eventually, and Clara blushed at that. "And you ask very personal questions for someone I've only met once." She blushed harder. "The name John reminds me of something. Something I lost a long time ago. Calling myself the Doctor not only detracts from that loss but also fills me with hope that I can fix anything, so that I need never lose something that precious to me again." He was looking into her eyes, but she felt like he was examining her, staring into her soul. A shiver ran down her spine.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, though the words felt inconsequential. He smiled warmly at her and she released a breath that she hadn't realised that she had been holding in.

"My turn," he said and Clara felt herself being probed. "What's bothering you?"

"Who said something's bothering me?" she bristled. She felt defensive all of a sudden, despite the fact she had been the one intruding on the Doctor's life.

"I do," he replied casually. Underneath his nervous exterior, Clara could see he was very intelligent and very confident in his own intelligence. He was gauging her; they were weighing each other up. Then, the nerves kicked back in as she raised an eyebrow at him. The nervous disposition had dropped for a moment, but that was all Clara had needed to get a glimpse of the real man. "I mean…it's written, all over your face."

Clara sighed. He was back to staring at his tea mug, occasionally glancing up at her, quizzing her. She realised that she was full of pent up energy, more than that, pent up emotion. She wanted to talk to him, but he was almost a complete stranger. And yet, she felt she could trust him. As she was about to talk, her phone buzzed.

"Shit," Clara muttered, checking the text and shooting him an apologetic look. "That's my friend, umm you remember Nina right? From last week's party? The Chemistry student?"

"I've seen her around a few times," the Doctor replied carefully. "She's the one who invited you right? I take it you're meeting her here?" There was disappointment in his voice and Clara winced at that. She wanted to continue the conversation but Nina was waiting.

"Yeah," she took a deep breath. "We're going out tonight, few drinks, maybe clubbing afterwards. I need to go." She plucked up all of her non-existent courage. "Youcouldjoinus?"

It took the Doctor a moment to register what she was saying, but then his eyes widened and he started stammering excuses and apologies. Clara felt a twinge of disappointment. She had put herself out there for once, and for what? The first guy she'd actually thought might be alright, and he was just another bloke who seemed nice but wanted nothing to do with her. She should just forget about it. She stood, smiling politely at him and she turned on her heels when he called after her.

"Wait!" he seemed stunned he'd managed to call himself as she smiled to herself and turned. "I mean, I don't go out drinking, as a rule, for reasons…" Clara remembered her mental note from the party. He'd been a heavy drinker once. Maybe he was still trying to get over that. "But um…we could go for maybe…" he seemed frozen, so Clara gave him her brightest smile in an attempt to open him up. "Go for coffee!" he finished eventually.

"Coffee?" Clara smirked and she could see him panicking. "I'd love to," she replied, finding herself going bright red. What would Nina say? "Um…tomorrow afternoon?"

"Sounds great!" his voice had gone high, Clara thought it was adorable. "Should I, um, give you my number or…"

Clara grabbed the nearest napkin and signalled for him to throw her a pen. He delved into his jacket and threw one to her, which she deftly caught. Being a teacher had its perks, including the ability to catch flying pens. She scribbled her number, along with '_Clara_' and a kiss onto the napkin and left it on the table. She could see him scrambling for it out of the corner of her eye and had to hold back a blush as she left the café.

"There you are!" Nina scolded. "What took you so long?"

Clara shrugged and then let Nina drag her off, but her mind was still on the Doctor…

* * *

Clara woke the next morning with a hangover the size of Texas. She flopped out of bed, onto the floor and crawled into her en-suite bathroom. Thankfully, she and Nina didn't have to share, one of the perks of having a little bit of money saved up. She ran the hot tap on her bathtub and stumbled back into her bedroom, unsure if she was still a little bit drunk from the previous night. She was wearing the same skirt she'd worn when she went out and her jacket was strewn on the floor beside her boots and handbag. She rummaged through the bag for her phone. She had a string of texts. One from Tom, apologising and asking if she could forgive him. She deleted that one out of hand. Tom could be annoying at times, she'd deal with it on Monday. One from her father, seeing how she was doing. She gave him a quick reply, as loving as she could make it, given the throbbing state of her brain. One from Nina, asking if she made it back. Clara didn't bother replying to that one yet, as it was timed at 3am. Nina would either be home or passed out somewhere. Either way, Clara would find out soon enough. The final text was from a number she didn't recognise.

_Hi Clara, it's the Doctor; you gave me your number last night? Just wanted to see if you were still on for coffee this afternoon? Say, half 2 at the Starbucks on Talen Street? X_

She smiled at this one. She checked the time. It was just gone 11, the text had been sent just over an half ago. She felt a little guilty for not replying sooner. Knowing him, even though she didn't really know him, he'd probably been shitting bricks over it since he'd sent it. He was adorable though.

_Sounds great, see you there x_

She smiled as she sent the reply. She had a feeling about this Doctor, a feeling that she couldn't explain. She shook herself. She was being stupid, she'd only just met him and he was a mystery to her. She paused a moment to think and then unlocked her bedroom and stuck her head out.

"Nina!" she called, awaiting a potential response. Nothing, not even a groan or a thudding of floorboards. Clara rolled her eyes. It looked like she was still out then. Clara shut the door and locked it again, crossing back to her phone and she thumbed a quick, inquisitive response. Clara then slumped on her bed, her head explosive, her stomach churning. The only sound that could be heard was the hot water thundering into the bathtub and the thudding in Clara's own head. She let out a soft moan of pain, and then lifted herself to her feet, carrying herself to the bathroom. As she lowered herself into the bath, she felt her body calm itself, as if the hot water was stopping the sickness in her stomach and the ricocheting feeling in her skull. She had a good few hours until she needed to meet the Doctor and she intended to enjoy them.

Well maybe enjoy wasn't the right word. But as Clara tucked into her greasy breakfast, determined to cure her hangover, she could at least reduce the vicious torment that her body was putting her through. After a fry up, a shot of Nina's whiskey and several cups of tea, Clara was starting to feel better. She dressed quickly, putting on her thickest tights, a long blouse and a thick woolly jumper. She wasn't sure she was appropriately dressed for a date, but then was this even a date? She chewed on her lip. She only needed a glance out the window to convince her to forget it. She was dressing warmly, as the wind was howling and the people wrapped up outside looked bitterly cold. She shivered thinking about it. She grabbed her hat, scarf and gloves and threw them onto her bed alongside her coat, ready for her to leave. She still had time before she had to leave, so she decided to make another cuppa, her nerves started to bubble inside her. It had been a long time since she'd been on a date of her own choosing, rather than one Nina had set up. Even as she thought that, she cursed. She was thinking of it as a date then.

Clara had just finished stirring in the milk when the front door crashed open and shut. Nina looked wretched. Her hair was dishevelled, she was wearing her dress from the previous night, which had sustained a few rips and she was shivering. Clara went to rush over but Nina held up a hand in protest.

"Cuppa!" she growled.

Clara rushed back to the kitchen to make Nina a cuppa as Nina settled in the adjoining lounge, as close to the radiator as she could get without burning herself. She let out gasps of relief as Clara returned with the teas, eager to get Nina's view on the Doctor, but also to find out where her friend had been the previous night. She checked her watch. She had a little over twenty minutes until she needed to leave. And that was to ensure she was there by twenty five past. Clara hated being late for anything, which was one of the main reasons why Nina's habits wound her up.

"Thanks," Nina muttered as she gulped at the hot liquid. "I may or may not have slept with Steve last night…"

"Steve from Chemistry?" Clara raised an eyebrow. "The one you warned me about?"

Nina rolled her eyes at the judgement in Clara's voice. "I warned you because of his track record. His track record of screwing over girls like you." Clara frowned at this. "Naïve girls who want a lasting relationship and don't like one night stands." Clara didn't quite know how to respond to that assessment so stayed silent. "Anyway, he's great for a one nighter, so I went back to his after the club. How much do you remember?"

"Not a whole lot," Clara admitted, her brain still scrambled. She could remember the bar, drinking a few cocktails and then heading off clubbing with Nina, but not too much else. She hated memory loss; it always filled her with an intense anxiety of her previous actions.

"Well you crashed out early," Nina recalled. "Left the club about half 1, absolutely smashed off your face. Some sleazeball tried to follow you into the taxi, so I hauled him out and paid the driver for you, seeing as how Stevie paid for my taxi. I texted to see if you made it back, but you'd probably already passed out by that point. I must admit, I was a little disappointed Oswald, I was hoping you'd be a lot more fun!"

"Sorry," Clara murmured, relieved that her night had ended prematurely, not that she'd tell Nina that. She tried to think of a way to probe the Doctor situation without letting slip she was meeting him later but quickly realised that that was pointless. Nina would clock her in ten seconds flat, she might as well just come clean straight off the bat. "Do you know a guy called John, works in Physics, calls himself the Doctor?"

"Ahh," Nina's eyes narrowed. "The Doctor. I've heard of him. Real name, John Smith, aged 29," Nina rattled off. "He was a whizz kid, finished his PHD by the time he was 21, but he always lies and says it was later. Went a bit off the rails two years ago, after his wife died in a horrific car accident or so I'm told. Turned to booze, hit the bottle pretty hard. Almost lost his job at the university but he was so smart they couldn't afford to fire him. Nevertheless, they forced him to sober up and he's been back on his game the last nine months or so." Nina seemed to be considering if there was more to say. "That just about sums it up. Why do you ask?"

"We're going for coffee later," Clara said quietly, sipping her tea and waiting for the explosion. For some reason, it never came. Nina was staring at her with an intensity that Clara wasn't used to. She shifted slightly and Nina shook her head. "What?"

"Nothing," Nina paused. "It's just…all the eligible bachelors I try to set you up with and you choose the emotionally crippled, alcohol dependent, super-genius. What does that say about you Clara?"

Clara had no answer to that.

* * *

She had resolved not to ask the Doctor about his drinking problem, or his dead wife. But both of them were hanging over her head as she met him outside Starbucks and they went inside to order. Clara ordered tea, same as she always did, whilst the Doctor ordered a cappuccino. It took almost ten minutes of staring and awkward preamble before he sighed, put down his cup and looked intensely at her.

"You know then?" he asked, his voice hurt and Clara didn't bother to deny it. "You know about River? About the booze?"

"Was that her name?" Clara's voice was quiet, comforting, but she didn't know what she was doing. Nina's revelations had made her cautious, but hadn't changed her views on him. If anything, it just filled in the confusing gaps of her reading of him. "River?"

"River Song and I married young," he was speaking curtly, like they were facts about another person, like Nina was reeling off facts about him. "I was 21, she was 25 and we both thought we'd met the one. We thought that because we shared a passion for blowing shit up, it made our love invincible. I guess we were wrong. She got hit by some drunken fuckwit, I became a drunken fuckwit, and I've spent every second of my life since that day trying to find a way to carry on. It's taken me over six months to get to a place in my life where I don't need a drink and where I can move forward with my life. And I want to move forwards Clara. Sorry," his voice had lost its edge but she could see he was still tense. She felt the urge to reach out and grasp his hand. "I'm sorry Clara. But River Song has been hanging over my head for two years; I just wanted to start fresh. But there, now you know all there is to know. If you want to walk out that door, I'd understand. But I feel better now, and I just want to get on with my life and meet someone new. "

Clara knew she should walk. She should get up and leave this damaged man to his cappuccino. But she didn't. Because she liked him for some reason and she didn't want to let this chaos push her away. He wanted to move on and she understood that. In the six months following Danny, all she had wanted was for people to stop talking about Danny. The way he wanted people to stop talking about River, now that he was ready to move on. If he was ready. She didn't know why she believed him, but she did. Clara could almost hear Nina's groan of exasperation as she reached across the table and took his hands.

"Seeing as how I know so much about you John Smith," she said sweetly and this time he didn't flinch. "It only seems fit to return the favour. You already know I'm Clara, Clara Oswald. I've told you I'm a teacher, but I didn't tell you why I got into teaching. It was because of my mum." Clara took a deep breath. "She died when I was sixteen and I had never felt more alone. I became a teacher so that I could make sure that the teenagers I teach don't end up the way I did, alone, powerless, I want them to feel as though there's always hope and that people do care about them."

She could see admiration in the Doctor's eyes and also pity. She hated the pity, the pity of people who were always judging, who always thought they could put themselves in her shoes. She at least appreciated the admiration.

"That's not what's been bothering you though," he said gently, sipping his coffee. She could feel him evaluating her. "I could see yesterday you were…agitated by something. But the way you talk about your mum…it's not raw. It's not as painful anymore."

"It was a long time ago," Clara admitted. "It doesn't mean I don't miss her, the way that you must be missing River." He acknowledged this with a head bow. "But you're right, that's not what's bothering me. It's my friend Tom. I snapped at him. And now he's acting like a wounded puppy."

"Why did you snap?"

"Because he won't stop going on about how sorry he is and how much of a jerk Danny is!" Clara's voice was getting louder and she fought for control over her emotion. "He can't get it into his head that I don't care about Danny, and I don't want to hear about Danny every day at work, when all I want to focus on is…"

"Moving on?" the Doctor's voice was sympathetic, rather than pitying. "Danny is your ex?"

"We broke up six months ago," Clara explained, her face burning. "He cheated on me." She'd adopted the same, matter-of-fact tone that the Doctor had adopted when talking about River. "And now he's sleeping with some trainee and it's as if the entire world is up in arms, taking my side, expecting me to be angry or hateful. And…I don't care!" Clara shook her head. "I don't care anymore."

"Well…" the Doctor took a deep breath. The silence between them was deafening, Clara was shaking. She knew this was the make or break moment between them. Whatever the next words between them were, they would probably define the relationship to come. "That's the heavy stuff out of the way. Now, let's get down to the real stuff. The important questions. Clara Oswald, what is your favourite book?"

Clara smiled in relief.

* * *

Nina was still hugging the radiator when Clara got back. Her flatmate was giving Clara an odd look as she entered the kitchen, taking off her coat and shivering slightly as she rubbed her hands together. Nina blinked once and Clara rolled her eyes, turning to the cupboards, looking for food for dinner. She was waiting for Nina to speak, not willing to give her the satisfaction of answering the question that she was clearly desperate to ask.

"How was it?!" Nina blurted eventually, the tension of not knowing clearly killing her. Clara smirked to herself and put on her sweetest smile before turning around to face Nina, looking over the kitchen to the corner of the room Nina was perched in.

"It was lovely," Clara answered honestly, some of the sweetness melting off her smile as it became a genuine one as she looked back on her afternoon. "He's a great guy."

"Are you going to see him again?" Nina asked, the tone of her voice making it perfectly clear what she thought of the whole situation. Clara was in no mood for pussyfooting around her.

"We're going out for dinner Wednesday night. He's picking me up from here at 7:30."

The look on Nina's face was priceless.


	3. February

***Hey there guys, February time! I wanted to really take things slow with the Doctor and Clara, savour every moment of their relationship. As such, this chapter does just that, examining one or two of their firsts, whilst at the same time, just giving a little more detail into the events that brought them together. I really hope you guys like it! I plan to finish March tonight, so hopefully it will be up tomorrow! Please let me know what you think via review and thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed, favourited and read up until now! TPD***

* * *

7:30, on the dot, just like the last three Wednesdays. Clara was ready of course. It had taken her a couple of weeks to realise that the Doctor was punctual, but she had still been ready for every date beforehand, nervous as hell. She needn't have been. She and the Doctor had had a lot of fun, chatting amicably over dinner for three consecutive Wednesdays, getting to know each other better. And each week, he would ask her: "Same time next week?" and she would nod meekly. The first week they had hugged at the end of the date, the second he had kissed her cheek. Then, last week, they had locked lips, just for a moment, but the touch had sent electric shocks running up and down Clara's body.

Now, it was February and Clara had told herself that tonight she would make a move. He had dropped her home after their date three weeks running and she had been too cowardly to invite him in every time, despite every bone in her body wanting her to. Not this week. This week, Clara Oswald would be strong. She took a deep breath and checked her reflection once more. She was wearing a short black strapless dress, with a cardigan over the top and for the first time, no tights. The weather was still murky, but they'd be driving straight to the restaurant, wherever the Doctor had chosen this week. They took it in turns to choose and it was his week. Her hair was up in a bun and her makeup was minimal.

Clara crossed the flat, shouting for Nina that she was leaving. Her flatmate had grown increasingly less obtuse where the Doctor was concerned, although she had been making more enquiries at work. Not that Clara wanted to hear it. She was perfectly happy with the Doctor and he had never been anything other than honest with her, as far as she could see. Clara opened the front door and a natural smile crept onto her face.

"Clara Oswald," he greeted, giving her a small bow that induced a giggle out of her. "Your chariot awaits my lady!"

She followed him out into the cold evening air. It was already dark, as winter was far from over and the night sky was usually black by six. Clara shivered slightly as she hurried across the road to where he had parked up. The 'chariot' in question was a deep blue Ford Focus, according to the Doctor it was juiced up with a 2 litre engine he and a bloke he worked with had turbo charged themselves. She had been reluctant to get into it upon learning this, but he had insisted that the friend who had helped fix it up worked on space rockets, so he could handle a Focus. As Clara slipped into the passenger's seat, he slid a hand onto her knee and she felt herself blush. She glanced at him and he looked nervous. She felt the irrepressible urge to kiss him and gave into it, their lips meeting briefly before he pulled away, the powerful shockwaves rocketing through her making her gasp as he bit his lip.

"Shall we?" he asked with a nervous but cheeky grin. Clara didn't trust herself to speak, so merely nodded. She tried to avoid speaking for a few minutes, as the sexual tension between them was so charged that she was worried saying anything would only make things awkward. He was such a nice guy, but he was always too scared to make the first move, when all she wanted was him to take control. The car journey was thankfully over quickly and as they pulled up outside the restaurant, Clara let out a little squeal of delight.

"Impressed?" the Doctor asked with a small smile. "You mentioned that this place was your favourite, so I booked us a table for tonight."

He was quite right of course. The restaurant was called Titalia, a small little place not too far from her flat. It was an Italian place of course, the name a play on that, but why it was special to Clara was not just the quality of food, which was utterly sublime, but because her parents had taken her to dinner here for her 16th birthday, just after they had moved to London. It was one of her last happy memories of her mother. Shortly after that, the cancer had reared its ugly head and it had been a painful few months before her mother gave in to it completely. Titalia was a symbol of a happier time and Clara had needed that. Plus, the food was absolutely gorgeous. She pulled the Doctor into another hug and pecked his cheek, although it didn't quite serve to express her feelings towards him in that moment as they got out of the car and walked up to the restaurant.

They had a table by the window, so Clara could gaze out of it when she was trying to avoid the Doctor's eyes, not that she envisaged that being a problem. They ordered starters and Clara giggled as the Doctor mispronounced his.

"Small confession," he admitted with a smile. "I don't tend to eat at Italian restaurants and this is the first time I've ever eaten here. I'm going in completely blind Clara Oswald, I am trusting your taste in Italian restaurants!" he chuckled. "I'm sure it is exquisite."

"Well I love Italian," she countered with a cheeky wink. "I had to suffer through your Indian two weeks ago, that was horribly spicy! You must be used to a lot hotter foods than I am."

"Well, my parents were exotic food lovers," he told her cheerily. "So we had Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Thai. Most of it was horrible, truth be told, but out of all of them, I developed a taste for spicy Indian food. Other than that, it mostly put me off foreign foods."

"You say your parents were exotic food lovers," Clara proceeded cautiously, judging his face. "Why the use of past tense?" They hadn't talked much about family, only that he knew her mother was gone and that they were both only children.

"They're not dead, if that's what you're worried about," he chuckled, but his face had grown a little darker nevertheless. "They live in America now; we've not spoken in a while. They disapproved of River and we fell out over it. They left nearly 8 years ago, we spoke a handful of times before River's death and they've only sent me one condolence message since."

"I'm sorry to hear that Doctor," she murmured, her hands crossing the table to find his. He didn't react when she took them and squeezed, except for the hint of a smile making its way to the corners of his mouth.

"It's alright," he sighed. "It was my choice not to keep in touch with them. I was so angry at them for so long, about a lot of things. They always wanted more for me than I was willing to accept. They wanted me to do medicine, I preferred physics. They had the ideal daughter-in-law lined up, I ran off and married River Song. The worst thing was, they thought that I was doing it to spite them, rather than because it was truly what I wanted. They thought that experimental physics was 'just a phase'." He snorted and Clara rubbed his hands gently, in an attempt to cool him down.

"Hey," she said gently and their eyes locked. "I think it's amazing that you had the ability to stand up to them and do what made you happy. So many people aren't strong enough to do that." She meant it too. She had always had the support of her parents, now just her dad, but she knew Nina was only doing Chemistry because it was what her mum wanted her to do and she felt bad for her friend at times, even if Nina did claim to enjoy her work.

"My apologies Clara," he said brightly, not breaking the eye contact. "I didn't mean to lower the tone of this evening; I always enjoy our Wednesdays together." Another little thing Clara had picked up on, he was always reluctant to call them dates. She wasn't sure if that was nerves or something else.

"It's fine," she insisted, squeezing his hands again. This time he responded with a hand squeeze of his own and the simple act reassured her. "I'm having fun, I always love our dates." She deliberately used the word, watching his face, trying to glean a reaction. He didn't give her one, besides a lip twitch. "We are dating, right?" Clara asked the question sarcastically, as if she already knew the answer, but her heart was still thudding a little harder in her chest.

"Of course we are," he replied firmly, squeezing her hands again for emphasis. He gave her a reassuring grin and Clara relaxed. "I'm not very good at this, am I?"

"You're doing fine," Clara admitted, giving him another reassuring smile. "We're both just a bit new to the game. All my dates in the last six months or so have been train wrecks, and me and Danny were already close before he asked me out. And I assume you're something similar?" He nodded. "Well then, let's both be a bit dodgy at it together," she giggled and he definitely seemed to perk up at that.

Their starters arrived and the Doctor seemed to be struggling to identify what it was he had ordered, Clara giggling as he picked at it and shot her whispered questions under his breath, asking her what various parts of the dish were. Every time he asked her what a certain thing was, she'd roll her eyes and open her mouth, inviting him to drop a forkful in for her to test. And he'd obediently fill her mouth with yummy Italian goodness and Clara would pretend to be working out what the food was before confidently telling him, having known all along. She returned the favour though, letting him try some of her calamari, upon which his face would light up and he would nod appreciatively.

After starters, he took another ten minutes of fumbling when they ordered mains, eventually settling on a chicken pasta dish Clara and the waiter both had to separately explain. Clara went with a lasagne. She was looking forward to pinching more of his main. He shot her a look of confusion and she rolled her eyes. She wasn't entirely sure he wasn't playing dumb for her amusement.

"So how long have you known Nina?" the Doctor asked casually, sipping on his water as they waited for food. Clara was also drinking water, partly as an unspoken show of support for him, but also because she wanted to be fully alert. She mulled over the question.

"A long time," she chuckled. "A very long time. We grew up together up in Blackpool, so about twenty years, maybe even more. We lost touch a bit when we went to uni, but since I moved back to London, we've got a lot closer. She was really there for me after Danny, even let me move in with her."

"You were living with Danny then?" he probed and she nodded. "How long for?"

"18 months," Clara mused. "Seems like so long ago now. I really thought the arsehole was going to propose. Then, I caught him in bed with the girl from down the shop." The Doctor whistled. "Yeah, it was a bummer to say the least. I don't even mind seeing him every day either, but people make such a big deal of it."

"Is it not?" he sounded concerned but Clara's eyes narrowed to slits anyway. "You were willing to get married to this bloke and he cheats on you, you can understand why your friends feel the need to defend you."

Clara paused. He was right of course, but there was no way in hell she was going to admit that. He was looking at her with his big sad eyes and she chewed on her lip. She had been angry at Danny for so long, but she just wanted to get on with her life. She eyed up the Doctor, who hadn't taken his eyes off of her.

"He's an arsehole," she said eventually. "And the last thing I need is to be reminded of how much of an arsehole he is. Because he still gives me this bubbling, rippling feeling that tears me up inside." She was letting rip now. "And I hate it. I hate the feeling and hate him for making me feel that way and then of course I blame Tom and Nina and Ruth, I told you about Ruth, the Maths teacher?" He nodded. "I blame them for all that hate and then I just feel so angry and frustrated, all the time. So if they would all just shut the fuck up and leave me to forget how much of an arsehole he is, that would be amazing."

She took a deep breath and the Doctor was staring at her with a small smile creeping across his features. She blushed. She could feel the anger melting away as she stared into his eyes and she took another deep breath to calm herself.

"Better?" he asked, clearly amused.

"Much," Clara downed her water. "Where's our food?"

The rest of the meal passed fairly peacefully. They ate, sharing meals and laughing at each other's jokes and Clara managed to not only forget Danny, but also her own insecurities. She forgot how nervous she was about the end of the date and inviting him inside. She forgot all of that and just enjoyed her meal. Then, before she knew it, they had reached the end of date routine of the Doctor insisting on paying, Clara insisting that they split it and him eventually giving in. They were driving home when the nerves reappeared like a punch to the gut, Clara suddenly realising that he was about to stop outside her flat and walk her to her doorstep. Then what? As they reached the doorstep, Clara felt her breath hitch in her throat. Now or never Oswald.

"Would you like to come inside?" she asked, blushing furiously. "For a cup of tea. I mean, you don't have to stay the night, but you could. If you wanted. But we don't have to have sex, though we could…if you wanted…"

She was mortified. She buried her head in her hands and the Doctor seemed to be staggering for the right response. But then…

"I could go for tea," he admitted. "I mean, I'd love to stay, it's just…" he took a deep breath. "I really like you Clara, like a lot." They were both blushing furiously now. "And I don't want to fuck that up by moving too fast. So yes, I would love to stay the night, but I don't want to sleep with you. I mean, I do want to sleep with you. But I don't want to rush it."

She was kissing him properly now. It was their first kiss, their first real kiss anyway. Their lips crashed together, slowly at first, like they were just getting to know each other's mouths. Then, Clara opened her mouth, allowing her tongue to slip into his mouth. To his credit, he didn't flinch and after a moment, his tongue was in her mouth, his breath hot on hers. She rasped as he nibbled gently on her lips, their tongues starting to become increasingly adventurous. Her hands were wrapped firmly around him and his moved up to remove her hair from her bun. As her curls cascaded onto her shoulders around their meshed lips, Clara wanted this moment to never end. His hand settled at the small of her back, as the other cupped her cheek. Eventually, the kiss broke naturally and Clara smiled shyly.

"You coming in then or what?"

* * *

Their first kiss had been magical, but the rest of the night came pretty close. They curled up on the sofa in the lounge with two mugs of tea and watched a film: Hunger Games at Clara's behest. By the time the film had ended, it was midnight and Clara was wistful as she switched off the TV, still snuggled up to him. He decided the best move was to leave and as annoyed as she was with herself, she had to agree with him. But then he made an unexpected manoeuvre as he asked to see her on Saturday, as opposed to the following Wednesday. She was pleasantly surprised and quickly agreed, cutting off his speech about it only being a university gala. She kissed him again and this time it was less controlled, more pure instinct and Clara was gasping as they broke it off.

She was still buzzing from the kiss the next morning and when Nina had asked her how the date went over breakfast, she had merely laughed hysterically, which had earned her a look that strongly suggested that Nina was considering getting her psychiatric help. Clara was living off the high all that morning, she even managed to smile at Danny when she saw him and laugh at one of Tom's lame comments about the woman Danny was sleeping with. She couldn't wait until Saturday night. It seemed as though no sooner had the euphoria of Wednesday night worn off, but she was excited about Saturday. As it finally rolled around and Clara finished marking her test papers, got herself dolled up, called a taxi and met the Doctor at the university, she could tell it was going to be a great night.

The event itself was as dull and dreary as both Clara and the Doctor could have predicted, so they sat in the corner, chatting and drinking wine. She was worried about him, but he assured her that he was in control and one glass wouldn't hurt. He was right, it seemed. He nursed it well and Clara was relieved that he didn't seem to fall off the wagon. She had the niggling doubt that she couldn't always act like that when he had a drink, but she worried about him nevertheless. One moment that Clara would never forget came at the mid-point, where a friend of the Doctor's, called James, rushed over to say hi.

"Clara," the Doctor introduced. "This is James Jenner, he's a friend of mine, works in Engineering. He's the one who helped with the Ford. James, this is Clara Oswald, my girlfriend." He suddenly looked panicked and Clara's eyes shot straight to his, a small smile playing on her lips. Fortunately, James rescued him.

"Pleasure to meet you Clara!" he greeted. He had a big, cheesy grin and deep blue eyes, his hair cut short and blonde, streaked with brown every now and then. He looked like a cheerful person. "So you're his girlfriend then?" James looked pleased at this.

"It would seem so!" Clara laughed. She was going to tease him later.

The night progressed and Clara found herself quickly tired and bored of the university nonsense, eager to get home and take the Doctor with her. It was as if he sensed it, because he shot her a look and they made their excuses. He drove her home and this time they didn't linger on the doorstep, she merely held the door open expectantly and he followed.

"So I'm your girlfriend?" she asked, an accusatory but teasing tone as they clambered up the steps to her flat. "Nice to be informed."

"Yeah," he had gone pale. He was fidgeting with his bow tie again, he was always doing it. "I mean, you are right? You want to be? I just assumed, what with everything…"

"Relax you numpty!" she laughed. "Of course I'm your girlfriend; it was just weird hearing it said out loud for the first time. With Danny, everyone else seemed to know it before we did; we sort of eased into it. We never really had to say it, if anything the label was there before we were even together."

"I think River and I were married before we were really what you'd call 'public'," the Doctor chuckled. "So she was my wife before she was my girlfriend."

That was one of the things Clara liked about him. He didn't flinch when she mentioned Danny and he didn't hesitate to talk about River either. Neither of them actively went to talk about their exes as such, but when it crept into conversation, neither of them shied away from it. He must have had that dull gnawing feeling when he mentioned River, like Clara did with her mum, but every time she talked about her mum, or about Danny, the pain got a little more controllable.

That evening was wonderful. They didn't sleep together, she knew he wasn't ready and didn't push him, but they made out a little bit on the sofa while they watched Anchorman, laughing along and snuggling up together. Clara felt like a teenager again, cuddling under a blanket, kissing her crush, the entire world stopping in those moments. It was nice to be in a relationship where the primary motive wasn't sex. Towards the end, she and Danny had barely had moments like this. They had had some fantastic times together, but increasingly the foreplay and tenderness had been stripped away, until they almost didn't speak, they simply jumped from watching the film to shagging on the sofa. It made her wonder what it was that possessed him to shag Lucy, it wasn't as if he wasn't getting enough sex. He had never offered a reasonable explanation, just stammered excuses and lame lies. She suspected it was a deliberate sabotage attempt. Danny had always been too cowardly to do things himself, it would make sense he didn't have the balls to dump her.

The Doctor stayed that night, curled up in bed alongside Clara. It felt nice. It had been a very long time since she'd soberly slept next to another human being and she curled up beside him. And that was how she fell asleep, her legs intertwined with his, her hand wrapped around his waist, his lazily folded on her stomach, her head resting on his shoulder. It was the perfect feeling for her to fall asleep to.

Waking up the next morning was an experience. Seeing the Doctor, sans bow tie, with messier than usual bed hair and listening to his thudding heartbeat and gentle breathing, made Clara's heart soar and melt at the same time. It had been so long since she had woken up next to another human being and not been sick with alcohol poisoning, shame and regret. And it felt good. She pecked his cheek, but he didn't stir, so she made him a cuppa. Nina was already up, smiling wickedly at Clara when she entered the kitchen.

"Before you say anything," Clara rolled her eyes as she flicked on the kettle and removed two mugs from the cupboard, hunting around for tea bags and sugar. "No I didn't sleep with him. We're taking things slower than that and it really feels nice."

"You're such a nun," Nina teased. "As long as you two lucky ducks are happy."

"We are," Clara said proudly, allowing herself a smug smile. "You've changed your tune, I thought you were against me and him going out?"

Nina shrugged as Clara spooned sugar in, one into her mug, two into his. "I was, but if he makes you happy then that's all that matters. I was just worried you didn't know what you were getting into. Dead wife, alcoholism, it's not exactly a recipe for a good relationship."

"Maybe not," Clara admitted. "But it's working. For now. Speaking of recipes, have you seen…?"

"Oh for God's sake Clara," Nina hung her head. "You're not going to make another bloody soufflé are you? Remember what happened to the last fifty thousand?"

She was exaggerating of course, but she still had a point. Clara's soufflés normally only ended one way. But she hadn't yet made one for the Doctor and she was eager to try. After all, there was only so many times she could muck up her mum's soufflé before she nailed it. Nina wrote her off, as ever, but Clara was determined that it would work. This time, she would be soufflé girl!

The Doctor came running downstairs twenty minutes later to the smell of burning and the sounds of Clara cursing as her precious soufflé had burned again. Throwing the charred remains of her soufflé away, she sighed in dismay, but giggled at the sight of her boyfriend crashing into the kitchen in boxers and a blue t-shirt. She had been keeping his tea warm on the stove, so she handed him the mug with a sheepish look and he gratefully accepted it.

"I was trying to bake you my mum's soufflé," Clara explained. "I fucked it again."

"Your mum's soufflé?" he frowned. "How is the soufflé your mother's?"

"Because, the soufflé isn't the soufflé, the soufflé is the recipe. The soul of a thing lies not in its matter, but in its form after all. My mum designed it. It's her soufflé." Clara bit her lip.

"Alright Aristotle," the Doctor teased, pulling her into a light hug and pecking her lips. "I think it's wonderful that you still consider the soufflé hers and I think it's adorable that you tried to bake one for me, even if it ended up a bit…"

"Chargrilled?" Clara giggled, already feeling better about the ruined soufflé. "Well I wanted to give you something to say thanks for an amazing night, besides the pleasure of my company," she blushed. "You don't have to be home any time soon do you? I can try again?" She knew it was stupid, but she really needed to nail that soufflé. There was something in his eyes, not quite pity, but she didn't like it nevertheless. He smiled warmly.

"I don't have to be anywhere," he said softly. "I can stay all day if you want." And she did want. "But I've got that fucking business trip tomorrow, I'll be gone for two weeks."

"Well then," Clara smirked. "Better make the most of today," she pulled him into another light kiss. Their kissing was still tentative, still new; they hadn't quite developed a rhythm for it yet. "Did you say you were going to a conference in Geneva?" she quizzed, turning back to finish her own cup of tea. He nodded. "That must be cool. I wish I could go to Europe. The closest we got was the weekend my parents splashed out and we got to go to Dublin."

"I'll take you," he promised, earning a blush. "Maybe over Easter. Anyway, in the meantime, there's one very important piece of information about me that I neglected to tell you Clara Oswald and it is about to come in very handy indeed."

"What?" she quizzed, a smile creeping onto her face as he tapped her nose playfully and crossed the room to look inside her fridge, a childish grin leaping onto his face as he produced eggs.

"I am the greatest omelette maker on the planet," he announced proudly and she snorted. "Don't believe me?" he sounded horrified but it was that natural confidence again, which he oozed when that nervous guard finally slid away. "Well then Clara Oswald, you are in for a real treat. Buckle up and sit down, we are going on an adventure."

And he wasn't lying. Clara couldn't deny that it was by far the finest omelette she had ever had.


	4. March

***Hey guys! I hope you like this next chapter! So, it's March and the Doctor and Clara have been dating for two months now. The overwhelming theme of this chapter is sex and its role within the relationship, but also pacing and how key that is. As such, there's some mild smut towards the end. I also wanted to reintroduce Danny and do some exploring of that relationship. In any case, thank you so much for reading, and thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited. Please continue to review and let me know your thoughts!**

* * *

He had been upset when she'd told him that she couldn't see him on their usual Wednesday date night. They'd only seen each other once since he'd slept over, on their date the Wednesday after he got back from his two week business trip. When she'd told him she couldn't do the following Wednesday, he'd been confused. She'd not been able to tell him why. Maybe it was just that she wanted something private, a moment that she didn't have to share. Maybe it was because it was her mother and she needed to do it alone. She wasn't sure. When he'd smiled sadly, she'd said she'd text him to arrange something else. She still hadn't and was feeling guilty. She didn't know why she couldn't bring herself to arrange something. She felt like Wednesday was their special day and if she waited long enough, she could just make it the Wednesday after. But that was battling the fact that she didn't want to wait two weeks to see him. They'd been dating less than two months, but they got along so well and she was starting to like him an awful lot.

She was planning on visiting the grave after work with her father. She'd meet him at the cemetery and then they'd go for dinner. She half-considered inviting the Doctor along but it was a bit early in the relationship for them to play meet the parents. They'd still not slept together, although he had come back to hers after their last date and they'd gone further. She felt a bit awkward introducing a man she hadn't slept with to her father as her boyfriend when she knew her father would assume they'd slept together. She didn't mind taking her time with the Doctor, she loved the pace they were moving at, but she wanted to get further alone before she considered introducing the two. And at any rate, it was her mother's day, a day for her and her dad alone.

So when Wednesday March 5th rolled around, Clara was surprised to see the Doctor knocking on her classroom door five minutes before lunch time. She had her Year 8s and all their little heads shot up in unison, as they always did when someone knocked on the door. It was adorable but in this moment, highly infuriating. Clara tried not to act too flustered as she glanced at the Doctor and turned back to her class.

"Alright you lot," she said sternly, but a small smile just twitching in the corners of her lips. "Keep your heads down and keep working on your essays; we still have five minutes left."

She turned to the Doctor, inviting him in and letting him sit in her seat on the proviso that he didn't meddle with the elevation, as she had her chair at the perfect height. As he slumped, she shot him a look to tell him that they'd talk when the class was finished. The next five minutes were among the longest and most awkward of Clara's life, as the Doctor spun on her chair, all the kids eyed him up and whispered and she blushed furiously.

Eventually, the bell went for lunch and the kids raced out. Usually, she would have tried to slow them down and make them behave civilised as they thundered into the corridor, but she couldn't be bothered. After all she had her guest to attend to. She had been in a bad mood all day, one of the perks of March 5th, but his appearance had at least put a smile on her face. She turned to him and he stopped spinning. Knowing him, he was probably dizzy and she could see his eyes were struggling to focus. She rolled hers.

"What're you doing here?" she giggled, unable to keep the smile off of her face.

"Well," he held out a small box which she took gratefully and cracked open. "Seeing as how you can't make dinner tonight and I really wanted to continue our Wednesday tradition, I thought I'd pop in for you so we could have lunch together. I hope that's alright. I like your school, very fancy."

"Thanks," Clara was a bit taken-aback but this was a surprise she would definitely file into the pleasant category. He'd even made her sandwiches. Ham sandwiches, her favourite. "I mean, that's so thoughtful of you. I'm so sorry I didn't text you to rearrange it just…"

"Didn't feel right doing any other day?" he asked sympathetically. "I know how you feel."

Clara felt her guilt washing away and her smile grew. She pulled him into a hug, one that allowed her to relax even further. She took a sandwich out the box and sat on his lap, feeding him a bite of her sandwich. He chuckled and took it, before Clara nibbled on the sandwich herself. They stayed that way for almost twenty minutes before there was a knock on her door and Clara was about to leap off the Doctor's lap when Tom walked in.

"Clara, I was just looking for you, you weren't in the lunch hall or the staffroom and I know sometimes you eat in…oh!" he froze when he saw the Doctor. Clara went crimson and shared a look with the Doctor before hopping off him. The Doctor tried to stand elegantly and failed miserably, stumbling and almost falling over. He straightened his bow tie and stuck out a hand, which Tom shook, looking at Clara with a surprised look on his face.

"Tom," Clara sighed. "This is the Doctor. He's my um…boyfriend." She knew she should have said something to Tom earlier, but it had repeatedly slipped her mind. Plus, she was still annoyed at him over the Danny thing. "Doctor, this is Tom, I think I've told you about him?"

"Loads," the Doctor replied casually, smiling warmly at Tom as they shook. Eventually, he released Tom's hand and Tom looked from the Doctor to Clara. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Tom mumbled. "Um Clara, I didn't know you were seeing anyone…"

"Yeah," Clara shifted awkwardly as both guys were now looking at her, the Doctor looking more amused than anything else, Tom a combination of uneasy and confused and also a little embarrassed. "I mean I've been seeing the Doctor for a couple of months now, I just forgot to mention it…" she trailed off but wanted to regain her composure. "So Tom, you were looking for me?" she asked brightly, desperately trying to save face.

"Yes," he replied, seemingly desperate to take the opportunity to change the subject. The Doctor was smirking slightly now and Clara shot him a playful warning look. "I just wanted to check if you'd applied for a spot on the detention rota?"

"Yes I have, Thursday lunchtime and Tuesday afterschool," Clara said slowly, raising her eyebrow at him as he looked increasingly nervous. "Same as every week, why?"

"Just wanted to check," Tom said casually. "A bunch of us are going for drinks after work next Thursday and I needed to know if you were free."

"Will Danny be there?" Clara asked curtly and she could see Tom flinching moments before he did. He was always so panicking whenever Clara said the D-word, as if he expected her to burst into floods of tears and was still surprised when she didn't. "That's a yes then."

"I mean, we can ignore him," Tom was saying eagerly. "You and me, we can sit in the corner and glare at him and Ruth's going as well and you know how she feels and…"

"Whoa!" Clara raised a hand to quiet Tom. "I don't care that much about Danny, I just wanted to check," she smiled wickedly and when she looked at the Doctor, she could see that he'd cottoned onto her train of thought and was biting his lip, clearly torn. "Doctor, would you care to join us?"

He seemed to take a moment to mull it over, but nevertheless, she was glad when he smiled and nodded, an interesting tone to his voice as he said: "I'd love to."

* * *

Clara was surprised that the Doctor hadn't asked her what she had planned for that evening that meant she couldn't see him and she mentioned it to him, to which he had responded that he trusted it was important and that that was good enough for him. She had ended up telling him the truth, the truth she had wanted to tell him anyway, that it was the anniversary of her mum's death and that she was going to visit her grave and then go for dinner with her dad. The Doctor had wrapped her into a big hug and she had been grateful for that, as she had been miserable on the inside for so much of the day and seeing him had brightened her up considerably.

She also made the decision to tell her father about the Doctor. They may not be ready to meet, but it only seemed fair that her father know she had another man in her life, one who she really liked and wanted her father to like as well. Her father suggested that they all meet for a meal, but Clara admitted to him that she wasn't ready for that step. Her dad understood. He'd always understood. He'd always tried his hardest to look out for Clara, be there since the death of her mother. He hadn't always done perfectly, but he'd done the best that he could and he'd never pushed Clara about anything and she was eternally grateful for that. She'd never felt pressured by him, which had allowed her to get over her mother at her own pace. Even now, he was prepared to let Clara lead the way.

Clara cried herself to sleep that night. It was normal for her and she had long since made peace with it. She spent so much of her life being okay with the fact that her mother was gone, but the truth was that it still hurt her and it was good to have one night a year where she could expel all of those negative feelings, all the loneliness and misery of missing her mother could be purged in one night of senseless crying and wishing her mother was back with her.

She'd been secretly hoping for another text from the Doctor, asking if she would see him at the weekend, but instead she got one arranging their battle plans for the following Wednesday. Wednesday was still their day then, that little piece of tradition making Clara smile. Normal time, her turn to choose the restaurant. Clara mulled it over, it wasn't a decision she needed to make right away.

The following Wednesday seemed both a lifetime away and to roll around in the blink of an eye. Clara had almost forgotten to book a restaurant and in all honesty, didn't know why she bothered. She didn't pick anywhere fancy enough that they would need reservations and they were looking for a table of two on a Wednesday evening, it wasn't as if they'd struggle to get one. Nevertheless, she booked a two person table at the local Frankie and Bennys. It wasn't the fanciest, but it was nice and tasty and she was feeling familiar with the Doctor, to the point where she didn't feel the need to try and overextend her hand. She felt comfortable without picking the fanciest place she could think of. It had been over two months since their first date, she realised with a little jolt as she was getting ready, smoothing out her plain white dress. Nina stuck her head in Clara's room and Clara smiled at her.

"Going with the white one tonight then?" Nina asked cheerily. "Will I be seeing John again tonight, or will you little ducks be going back to his for a change?"

Clara considered this. The reason they'd ended up at hers was that the Doctor always dropped her home, it only made sense. She wasn't going to be able to stay at his, as she had work the next day and she didn't want to make him do more driving than necessary. It was one of those moments where Clara felt guilty for not learning to drive. But she'd never needed to. Between London's public transport and being at university, she'd never needed to drive since she'd moved to London at the age of 16. She walked to work every day, as her and Nina's flat was within spitting distance of the school.

"He drives," Clara protested. "It's not fair to go back to his flat, then to ask him to drop me home after we've finished canoodling. Stop laughing at the word canoodling!"

Nina was already in stitches at the word and Clara rolled her eyes and threw her pillow across the room, but Nina deflected it with a swift flick of her arm. Clara glared at her playfully and turned back to the dress. Nina had calmed down and sat beside her. They sat in silence for a moment before Nina spoke.

"It really is a stunning dress, he'll definitely want to sleep with you if you wear it."

Clara's eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at Nina?"

"It's been two months."

"Aware of that, thanks for pointing it out."

"So, why haven't you slept with him?"

It felt like an accusation and that stung and had Clara on the defensive straight off the bat. "Because we're taking it slow!" she replied, more than a hint of irritation in her words. "A concept you might not understand, but one that large portions of society do!" If the words were supposed to cut deep, they merely bounced off, as Nina simply raised an eyebrow, showing no signs of hurt at Clara's attack. "Look Nina, I want to sleep with him, of course I do, but I respect the fact that he's the old-fashioned, nervous type, doesn't want to rush things."

Nina snorted at that and rolled her eyes. Clara was feeling very small all of a sudden. "Clara," Nina said gently, a rarity for her, tact wasn't her strong suit. "If you want to fuck the Doctor, then fuck the Doctor. He's a bloke; he's not going to say no to you if you try. He may say he wants to take it slow, but ultimately, you show him a bit of boob and he'll have it out his pants quicker than you can say: ionic bonding…or some other chemistry related term…"

"Nina, I've heard you shouting chemistry related terms during sex before," Clara reproached. "It's disturbing as fuck, but it's not news to me." She was musing the rest of it though. "Maybe he's not the only one who wants to take it slow!" Clara hated how Nina could get in her head, even if her best friend's intentions were good. Did she want to take it slow? Nina was right. She did want to have sex with the Doctor and she was right in that if Clara made the move, she doubted he'd stop her. But that wasn't the point. The Doctor didn't want to rush things and forcing him to do that wasn't on Clara's agenda. Nina could never understand that.

"Clara," Nina said patronisingly. "Honey. We both know what you want to do to that man, don't try and pretend you're happy taking it slow."

"There's a difference between actively wanting to take it slow and being happy to respect your partner's wishes to take it slow!" Clara shot back. "He wants to take his time, it's not fair of me to rush him."

"Whatever," Nina was shaking her head and stood up. "Just think about it Clara. You're not some teenager, saving herself. You're both adults. You need to fuck sometime." Clara wanted to say something, but words failed her as Nina got up and sauntered out, pausing to shoot her friend a warm smile. Nina was amazing sometimes, but at others she could really disarm Clara. It was an ability that Clara was not a fan of.

She tried not to carry her unease into dinner with her, but she was sure the Doctor had picked up on it, as he was watching her intently across the table. He didn't say anything, but as she picked at her pasta, she could see his face sliding in a frown. He straightened his bow tie, and that was never a good sign. It meant that he was nervous. Clara sipped on her water, hoping to push Nina's words from her mind but failing.

"Should we have slept together by now?" she blurted, the Doctor's eyes widening as she said it and Clara went bright pink, hoping nobody nearby had heard. She became very interested in her pasta, unable to look the Doctor in the eye as he fumbled over a response.

"Do you want us to sleep together?" he asked quietly and she could see him wince without looking at him. "I mean now, do you want us to have slept together, or to sleep together soon, bugger it, you know what I mean Clara. Do you wish I'd moved quicker?"

"I like you a lot," she replied, honestly. "I know I want to sleep with you, but I don't want you to feel pressured. It's just; Nina thinks I should move on you, because it's what I want. I mean, because I like you I mean."

"Forget what Nina thinks," the Doctor reached across the table to grip her hands gently and smile broadly at her. It was a comforting smile, making Clara feel a lot better. "What do you think? What do you want?"

"I think," Clara whispered. "That this feels really good. And I don't want to rush it. I don't want to mess with the rhythm for the sake of fucking you. Because as much as I do want to fuck you, what's happened so far has felt natural, has felt real."

"Good," he smiled. "Because I feel the same. We're in a good place. I don't know about you, but I think we'll get there soon; I just don't want to rush it for the sake of it. Now don't let your pasta go to waste just because you're pondering my good self, it deserves better than that."

Clara giggled and tucked in. She couldn't believe how well this was going .Whenever things looked like they were going to be strange or awkward between them, they were able to talk it out. She had a really good feeling about this, about him. The rest of the evening was remarkably peaceful, but there was certainly a feeling hanging between them, that sexual tension rearing its head again. At times, it almost felt like two friends chatting about their day. At others, she felt the overwhelming urge to throw him onto the table and mount him there and then. It was all very confusing at times, but in a nice way.

They completed their post-evening ritual of shuffling and kissing awkwardly on the doorstep before she invited him in, all the nerves of the meal constantly shifting and resurfacing. Every step up towards Clara's flat felt like a mountain and she wasn't quite shaking, but it felt that way. He must've spotted something was wrong, because he squeezed her hand reassuringly. Clara had been convinced that that would be the night they slept together, but it didn't feel right to her and in the end, they just ended up snuggling to the Doctor's film choice: Flubber. They kissed some more and Clara slid her hand down his trousers, but he made no move to undress her and she was glad in a way. The night ended with him kissing her goodbye just before midnight and scooting off to his car, agreeing to meet her outside her school at 5pm the next day for drinks. Clara sighed contentedly as she headed back upstairs and she met Nina's eye as she was about to head into her bedroom to sleep.

"Don't," Clara warned her, but Nina put her hands up defensively.

"I just wanted to apologise," she assured Clara. "You're right. Pacing is everything and it's every bit as unfair for me to try and rush you as it is for you to rush him or vice versa. I'd be livid if he made you do things you weren't comfortable with. Sorry Clara."

"Don't be," Clara smiled. "You were just looking out for me. Night Nina."

"Goodnight Clara."

* * *

She hadn't been quite sure what she wanted to achieve by inviting the Doctor to her work night out. Part of her was convinced that it was the opportunity to show him off as her boyfriend to her friends, which she really wanted to do. But a bigger part of her, the honest part of her, couldn't pass up the opportunity to stop Danny one-upping her. He had the trainee, Stacey her name was. And Clara had the Doctor. She had been unwilling to admit exactly how much it bothered her what Danny was doing, how he was doing. No matter how much she denied it, she was just like everyone else; she wanted to win the break up. He'd treated her like shit and she wanted to see him suffering, wanted to see him doing worse than her. She didn't want to use the phrase 'rubbing in', but she knew that she was doing exactly that, rubbing the Doctor in Danny's face.

And the Doctor seemed okay with that. He'd been acting very confident all evening, talking animatedly with Tom and Ruth and a couple of Clara's other friends from work: Sandrine, who taught French and Bethany, another English teacher like Clara and Tom. Clara definitely took a smug satisfaction in watching them hang on his every word, like he was a poet. This was him when the nerves were gone, she had long since realised. She was just surprised that the nerves were gone. Or maybe he'd just needed them to be. He shot Clara a grin across the table and Clara winked at him. She glanced down the table to where Danny and Stacey were sat in a fairly subdued silence. She felt great.

Clara was having a good night until she excused herself to go to the toilet. She was about to enter the girls' loos when a hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks. She didn't need to turn to know who it was. She knew that tender grip anywhere. It was a grip that he had used whilst kissing her many times. She forced herself to take a deep breath before she stared into his smiling face. She should have known things were going too well.

"Well played Clara," Danny chuckled, leaning against the wall. It was a light chuckle, the sort that had once sent shivers down her spine. Not anymore. "I must admit, the Doctor is quite the character. Consider me impressed. I should have upped my game, Stacey isn't in the same league." Game? League? What was he talking about? Clara frowned at him.

"The Doctor is wonderful," she informed him coldly. "What do you want?"

"Oh come on Clara," he laughed cheerfully. She didn't like this one bit. "We both know what this is! I got with Stacey to make you jealous and that the Doctor is just a clever attempt at payback. And credit where credit's due, he's very effective. Consider me very jealous…"

He was leaning in now and Clara was shaking her head frantically, not about to let him think that that was what was going on. But before she could respond, there was a hand clasped around Danny's shoulder. Clara bit her lip. She did not like where this was going at all. Danny frowned at the hand and turned to glare at the owner, who of course was the Doctor.

"Leave Clara alone," the Doctor warned, his eyes burning. Clara had never seen him so fierce. She hadn't even realised he was capable of being so fierce. Danny's eyes narrowed and he put his hand on the Doctor's.

"Take your hand off of me," Danny snarled. Clara went pale. She really hoped they weren't about to kick off. Knowing the Doctor, it was unlikely but knowing Danny…he had often defended her in pub brawls, but he'd never started them, it had always been the scumbag trying to hit on Clara who had thrown the first punch. Nevertheless, Danny had always thrown the last one.

"Step away from Clara, and I will," the Doctor replied, his voice so different from what Clara was used to. She wanted to intervene, but her voice failed her and she just watched, paralysed as her current boyfriend and her ex squared off. For a moment, she thought Danny was going to walk away. And then he swung. Clara screamed as his fist collided with the Doctor's jaw. The Doctor staggered back and Clara was begging him silently not to retaliate. Just walk away. Danny would never have hurt Clara, she knew that. But of course the Doctor didn't. He retaliated, swinging a fist in Danny's direction. It was one of the worst punches Clara had ever seen and Danny dodged it, before head-butting the Doctor. Clara let out another squeak as the Doctor's nose crumpled under the impact and burst, blood pouring down his face. She pushed past Danny to the Doctor, grabbing him gently and guiding him away from her ex-boyfriend.

"Oh my God!" she gasped. "Are you alright?"

"Fine!" he murmured, as a couple of security guards rushed over to grab Danny. Danny didn't struggle; he just walked out, shooting Clara an apologetic look as he passed. "I'm fine Clara really."

But he didn't look fine. Blood was pouring down his face and his giant chin was bruised. She headed back to the group, who had already found their feet after watching what had unfolded. Clara made her excuses and stepped out of the bar with the Doctor. Thankfully, he had walked to the bar with her from the school and even more thankfully, the bar was between the school and Clara's flat, so it was a five minute walk back to hers. He tried to protest, but she was having none of it. She helped him back to her flat and they sat in the kitchen, her dabbing at his nose with kitchen roll, him wincing every now and then. Danny was a hard hitter, Clara had seen him knock blokes clean out. She suspected he'd pulled his punches slightly, on her account. Thank heaven for small mercies, she thought to herself.

"You never asked me," Clara said, more to herself than to him. "If Danny was right. If I was just using you to make him jealous. I'd have thought that you would be worried."

The Doctor snorted with laughter and the net result of this was more blood flying out of his nose, which he at least had the good sense to look sheepish about as Clara frowned at him.

"Sorry," he mumbled as Clara got a fresh set of roll and ran it under the tap. "I just, I never believed it for a second. These last two months have been amazing, I doubt you'd go through all that if your end game was jealousy. It all felt too real for that. I'm sure peeving off your ex is just an added bonus. One that I am happy to accept. Although I wish I'd got a clean hit on him. You were right, he's an arsehole."

This made Clara smile. She had had enough reason to be furious with Danny, this was just the cherry on top of the cake. But it presented a bigger problem. He wasn't over her. Wonderful. He had cheated on her, toyed with her and he still thought that she was interested in him. She sighed. Danny was going to be a pain, she could tell. But at least the Doctor didn't believe his bullshit. His nose seemed to have finally stopped bleeding and she wiped away the last of the blood, leaning in close to him. Their eyes locked and their lips were inches apart.

"Thank you Clara," he whispered. "For cleaning me up."

"My pleasure," she murmured, and then they were kissing tenderly, her tongue dancing with his, their hands reaching up to each other's faces. She cupped his cheek, careful to avoid his bruised chin, as his left hand was tangled in her hair. "Shall we take this to the bedroom?" Clara asked courageously, breaking the kiss.

He nodded. They were moving, hand in hand. Clara locked the bedroom door. They removed their clothes slowly, stood in the middle of the room, facing each other. When Clara was down to her bra and underwear he gasped, just down to his boxers himself. They took a tentative step towards each other and then they were kissing again, gently. His hand was around her back, unclipping her bra. It fell to the floor and Clara was exposed. His other hand was pulling down her underwear and she kicked it away as his first hand on her breast and it was cold to the touch, making Clara shiver. He was drinking her in, breaking the kiss to look down, feeling every contour of her body with his hands, completing the mental picture with his eyes. Then, his eyes snapped onto hers as she took a deep breath and her hands went to pull down his boxers, which was the only thing between her and his erection.

They were locking eyes, locking souls. And then she nodded and the Doctor was kissing her. They fell back onto the bed and the rest was history. Magical, incredible history.


	5. April

***Hey guys! So this is a very long one, longer than I intended. I was aiming for 5000, but the end of the chapter ended up running long and I couldn't exactly cut any of it out because it's important xD So, we have a holiday and a birthday party. And to those poor souls who thought because it's one chapter a month I can't do my standard evil cliffhangers... bless your cotton socks. I really hope you like it, and please please review and let me know what you think. Thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited, May will be up tomorrow! TPD***

* * *

Their relationship had shifted, Clara knew that much. For the better, she had to admit. Ever since they had first slept together, they'd been a lot more comfortable around each other. The past few weeks he'd come over on Saturday night as well as Wednesday evenings and had stayed over every one of those nights. He'd even ended up stopping over one Wednesday, much to Nina's amusement when he gave her and Clara a lift to work the next day. Clara didn't ask either of them how awkward the drive to the university from Clara's school was, but she knew it must've been more fun for Nina than the Doctor.

Work had certainly been interesting, in the last few weeks and Clara couldn't wait until the Easter holidays. Tom had reverted back into his: 'Danny is an arsehole' spiel at least twice a day and Clara was getting sick and tired of hearing it. Danny himself had apologised profusely to her, but she was having none of it. She was absolutely furious with him and tore him a new one in the middle of the staffroom, making it perfectly clear that, contrary to his beliefs, she wanted absolutely nothing more to do with him and if he went near the Doctor again, she'd kill him herself. It had felt good to lay into him, but she felt guilty for dragging the Doctor into her staffroom gossip, as inevitable as it had been.

The Doctor had certainly come out of his shell more, although he was still the same flustered bundle of nerves at times. When the two and a half weeks off for Easter crashed around, Clara had almost forgotten his promise to take her somewhere in Europe, so when he announced at dinner on the Wednesday after she broke up that he was taking her to Berlin for the weekend, she almost choked on her chicken.

"What do you think?" he grinned as she drank some water to calm herself and soothe her throat. "Leave here Friday, back Monday? I've found us a couple of cheap flights that leave at 2pm on Friday and leave Berlin at noon on Monday. There's a cute little hotel, right on the River Spree, three nights in there is quite cheap, what do you say?"

"I'd say," Clara coughed. "That it seems like you're splashing out quite a bit of cash for a girl you've only been dating a few months." He looked dejected, so she smiled instead. "So you should let me pay for all the meals while we're out there!" His face lit up and if they weren't on opposite sides of a table, he'd most definitely have hugged her, she could see that.

"I can't wait!" he laughed. "You'll love Berlin," he started blabbering. "So many nice things to see, places to go, I can teach you some rudimentary German…"

He went on a long, rambling, spiel about how great Berlin was and how much she'd love it. Clara stopped listening about halfway through and just absorbed his face and its childish enthusiasm. She already knew that he had studied German at school, whereas Clara had studied French and hated every second of it. She had never understood the appeal of languages, but her teachers had badgered on about how good it would look on her CV so she had studied it, came out with a B and sure enough, it had been helpful when it came to getting an English degree and the teaching courses and jobs that followed. She still hated French, but she couldn't deny its usefulness. The Doctor eventually cut off, breathing heavily and grinning excitedly at her. Clara had to admit, she too was excited. She wasn't terribly excited about the sights and sounds of Berlin, but spending a weekend in a hotel with the Doctor…that she could get on board with.

"So are we sharing a bed?" she asked coyly and he went a little green. She giggled to herself as it was his turn to sip on water and compose himself.

"Yes!" he spluttered eventually. "I mean I already booked a double room for the hotel. So it would make sense if we did…wouldn't it? I mean we're sleeping together so…"

"You already booked the hotel?" Clara's eyebrows arched as her lips twitched into a smirk. If it was possible for him to be more flustered than he had been, he was now. "There's such a thing as too keen." He stuttered helplessly. "Oh relax Doctor," she smiled and leaned across the table to kiss his cheek. "I'm just teasing you; of course we're going to be sharing a bed, I absolutely can't wait. What time are you picking me up on Friday?"

"I was thinking 11?" he responded, taking the opening to regain his control of the situation. She nodded and sipped on her drink again, trying not to let the excitement reach her face or she'd blush like crazy. A whole weekend away with the Doctor. The last few weeks had been amazing for Clara; she was really starting to like him. Like really like him. He was always so tender and kind to her, and they had so much in common. The sex felt so different to anything she'd had before. It like a real connection, as opposed to two individuals performing an act. She wasn't sure about the significance of it, but it scared her, because she'd never felt anything like it. She hated clichés. And she hated using words like 'love'. Because she had fallen in love with Danny and in the end, it had been worth fuck all. She didn't love the Doctor not yet. But what they had seemed to her to be even more important. What they had felt special. It felt unique. And maybe it wasn't. At least not to other people. But it felt that way to Clara and really, that was all that mattered.

And so, when Friday rolled along, Clara was all packed up and excited. She hadn't been sure what the weather would be like in Berlin, but she assumed it would be similar to England in April, which meant wet. Nevertheless, she had packed a couple of nice dresses for dinner and casual clothes for the three days she'd be there. She was wearing jeans and a blue shirt, her hair tied up and her makeup minimal, she doubted she'd need to look good for a flight and they could change when they got to Berlin.

She flung open the door to him and he smiled warmly at her. He was wearing his red bow tie today, along with his beige tweed. Clara wasn't sure if he owned a wardrobe full of tweed jackets or just the two or three that he constantly wore. She was almost afraid to ask. She still hadn't seen his apartment, but made a mental note to ask him before the Easter holidays were over. They made good time and were at Heathrow before noon, giving them time to relax in the airport and grab some lunch before their flight. Clara watched and giggled as the Doctor buttered his scones. Of course he ate scones. She personally couldn't stand them, so munched on her sandwich and crisps.

"So you know my birthday's coming up?" he asked her, as he took a bite of his scone and she nodded. His birthday was April 30th. "I'm having a bunch of people over to my flat for drinks, obviously I want you there. If you get off school in time, we can go for an early dinner beforehand; people won't be coming over until around 8…"

Well at least Clara didn't have to ask him about going to see his flat. She gave him a small smile and a nod and he seemed to visibly relax. She wondered if there would ever be a time when he didn't panic about asking her to do things with him; it was as if he was perpetually in fear of her saying no. She'd not met many of the Doctor's work friends; only really James and he didn't tend to speak too much about many of them. She knew that he had a couple of friends from outside of work, Jack Harkness, an ex-army man who now worked in private military and Amelia Pond and her husband Rory. But she also knew that he hadn't told Amy and Rory about Clara, because they had been so close to River and her death had hurt them a lot, nearly as much as it had hit him. Clearly he had decided that it was time to rectify that.

"You know my dad called me last night," she took over conversationally, chewing nervously on her lip. "He still wants to meet you."

"And what did you tell him?" the Doctor's response was neutral, as she had expected it to be. He was yet to really indicate one way or the other how he felt about the prospect of meeting her father and Clara was yet to glean anything from his reactions.

"I told him I'd talk to you about it and try to arrange something," she shrugged. "My father's a busy man, and so are we, but I'm sure that between the three of us we could work something out. Maybe next month? I kinda think that it's about time that the three of us went for dinner, don't you?"

His answer was one she had hoped for. "Of course," he nodded, taking a bite out of his scone and swallowing hastily. "I'd love to meet your father. After all, we're at that stage in the relationship, aren't we?" Clara knew what he meant. She'd been putting it off on the basis that they hadn't slept together, but that was no longer an obstacle she needed to overcome. Now that they had, it felt like she shouldn't be keeping him a secret, especially now that he had rather spectacularly been introduced to her friends from work.

They finished lunch and boarded their flight. Thankfully, it was a short one, less than two hours, as Clara wasn't used to flying. She'd only ever flown to Dublin and that was a one-hour flight. It wasn't that she had anything against it, it was just new to her and she was glad it was only a short stint. It felt like they had only just taken off when they were touching down in Berlin, Clara hadn't even had time to finish The Simpsons Movie, which she snickered at on her mini-TV screen on the chair in front of hers. The Doctor had had his headphones in the entire time, listening to music and looking vaguely uncomfortable. She got the impression that flying wasn't his thing.

When they got to the hotel, it was around half 6, and the Doctor had apparently already made dinner reservations for half 7 in the hotel's restaurant. The bedroom was nice, Clara thought. A little plain, but she had been expecting that. The double bed had a white duvet cover but was very comfortable, they had a TV in their room and an en-suite shower with an endless supply of hot water. It didn't take her breath away, but neither was she perturbed by it. The Doctor had done well, considering neither of them earned a fortune. She showered first, as she would take longer to get ready. She was somewhat sceptical that it would take her much longer but she appreciated the first go with the hot water. The shower was lovely, the perfect temperature and Clara was already dressed and had started doing her hair by the time he hobbled out of the bathroom, wrestling with his towel and losing, as he crashed to the floor. She laughed at that.

Their first evening in Berlin was a lovely one, considering they didn't leave the hotel or adjoining restaurant. Clara insisted on paying for dinner as they'd agreed, as she was sure he'd try and sneak paying more wherever he could. He was like that, overly generous without thought for himself and it was one of the reasons she cared so deeply for him. He didn't care about his own wellbeing as much as he cared for Clara's.

After dinner, which was every bit as delicious as Clara had expected, they crashed into bed, snuggling up together and barely watching the German film with English subtitles that they had found on one of the free TV channels. Clara felt at home in his arms, like as his body slotted around hers, they were parts of a jigsaw, pieces that needed to be fitted together. Every so often, their eyes would lock and he'd give her his best smile and his warmest eyes and she'd feel herself melting into him. They didn't have sex that night and to Clara, that just the night better, as it made her feel cared for, as opposed to used. He had brought her all the way to Berlin and they had slept in the same bed, cuddled up together and it had been perfect without the need to shag. They did of course, the next couple of nights, and once during the day on Sunday, but it wasn't necessary. It was just the added cherry on top of the cake.

Berlin itself was masterful. The way that the city was built, the hidden treasures it offered, the memories of past warfare. It was both a beautiful city and in many ways a tragic one, one that was able to pluck at Clara's heartstrings the way a violinist plucked at the strings of her instrument. Clara was putty in the hands of such an ethereal, almost mystical city, which to her was just the way she liked it. The Doctor had been here before, he didn't need to tell her for her to know it. He understood the city, the way a painter understands art or an author understands books. Maybe it was his own fascination with history, a topic which Clara had never gotten into, but it was as if he could feel the city. If it had a beating heart, then the Doctor was pressing his hand to it, checking its pulse and in awe of the results. Clara wished she was staying longer than the two days she had to explore the city as even with the Doctor as guide, she knew there were so many hidden gems she couldn't even come close to finding, so many little nooks and crannies to explore.

By the time the weekend was over and she was waking up on Monday morning, she sorely wished the weekend hadn't had to end. Both for the city itself and the man she was seeing it with. The Doctor was unlike anyone she'd ever met. He was strangely alien at times, the way he spoke so frantically in such depth, about things Clara had no understanding of. But other times, he was so tender and nervous, like a child trying to find its way home. The more Clara stripped away those nerves, the more of the man she came to know, the confident, intelligent beast, lying under the guise of a mild-mannered and socially awkward physicist. Clara hadn't been lying to herself when she'd known at the start of the weekend that she didn't love the Doctor. She had been lying to herself when she tried to tell herself the same thing at the end of it. She might have hated the cliché, the lack of speciality about the word love and all the connotations that came with it, but nevertheless, it was an emotion that she would have had to added to the list of things she felt about the Doctor, if she was making one.

It wasn't until they were pulling up outside her apartment that she was hit by the horrible realisation that it was over. She was going back to the humdrum routine of everyday life. She might still have another week and a bit off school, but there was still homework to mark, essays to grade and lessons to plan. Clara would be working solidly for the next few days, as much as she wanted to spend them with him.

"I'll see you Wednesday, at the usual time?" he asked with a smile and Clara nodded, trying not to let her disappointment show on her face.

"Yes you will," she replied. "Thank you, for an amazing weekend." She felt as though the words couldn't do it justice, but they were all that she had.

"It was my pleasure."

* * *

Clara found herself increasingly nervous as she prepared for the Doctor's birthday. She had no problem with the dinner part of it, it was something they had done every Wednesday like clockwork and she was looking forward to it. It was the drinks. Drinks with people she'd never met before, all of whom were the Doctor's friends and all of whom knew him very well. They'd all be judging her assessing her and, though he would never admit such a thing, they would all be comparing her to River. Amy and Rory especially, who had liked River a lot. She would never admit to being scared she couldn't impress them, but that was exactly the case. Clara saw him on their Wednesdays as ever and once or twice on the weekends between their holiday and his birthday, and every time she felt more nervous as he talked about the Ponds and his party.

She'd gone present hunting and that had been tricky. They were at that stage of the relationship where she knew him well enough to know exactly what he want, it was just a question of how much money to put in and how thoughtful to go. Too big and she would overstep her intent, but too small and he'd be disappointed or she'd feel disappointed in her own attempts, neither of which she wanted to be the case.

In the end, as his car pulled into her school's car park and she waved goodbye to Tom and Bethany and stepped out to meet him. He got out the car and Clara giggled as she pulled him into a huge hug and stepped on tip toes to peck his lips. She wished him a happy birthday, he thanked her and then they were driving across the city, as the Doctor told her they were heading somewhere they'd never headed before.

"There's a new Italian open in Kensington," he informed her. "I thought we'd check it out."

"I thought you didn't really eat at Italian places?" she asked him with a small smirk. She knew exactly what he was doing.

"Well," he shrugged his eyes alive and his quiff bouncing. "I'm warming to them. Someone I like an awful lot got me into them, even if I can't pronounce half the things on the menus."

Clara rolled her eyes. He always did that, making out like he was stupider than he was, even when he was frantically google translating the meal with his phone. She could see him under the table, as he wasn't half as subtle as he thought he was. The Italian they ended up in was a lovely little place, and very traditional, it had the red and white chequered pattern on the table and everything. They shared a bottle of wine, although the Doctor only had the one glass because he was driving. Clara didn't comment. It was his birthday, he was allowed a drink, she needed to stop think about it.

"So how does it feel to be 30?" Clara asked breezily as they looked over their menus.

"Exactly the same as it feels to be 29!" he chuckled. "How does it feel to be dating a man in his 30s?" he shot back, a small smirk on his face as Clara realised she never had before.

"Exactly the same as it feels to be dating a man in his late 20s," she riposted with a giggle. She'd never thought about the fact that the Doctor was older than her before, she supposed it didn't bother her, it was only two and a half years. "I got you something," she said with another smile, opening her handbag and delving a hand in. He didn't look surprised, but he did look excited. She pulled out a bow tie, a deep green one with flecks of gold. He gasped when he saw it, grinning at her.

"Clara!" he beamed. "It's…" He was lost for words and practically dived across the table to kiss her, in his usual, flailing manner that she adored so much.

"Well I was out shopping," she explained breathlessly. "And I saw it and all I could think was how much it matched your eyes. And…what are you doing?" she laughed as he removed his black tweed jacket and was pulling up his collar.

"I'm changing!" he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I want to wear my new favourite bow tie!" He snatched it off Clara, who was staring, her heart melting as he put on the bow tie and she could feel herself tearing up. She didn't even know why. "Are you okay Clara?"

"Fine," she sniffed. "It's just, you look great. In that bow tie. It suits you perfectly. I knew it would." What was wrong with her. "I think I love you," she breathed. It had slipped out. All her talk about what they had being more special than that, and how she didn't want love to be the marker of their relationship, but here she was, saying it anyway. And meaning it. Everything else felt wrong. "I mean, what we have is so much deeper than that, and I didn't imagine saying it this way, so simply when the words mean so little, but damn it, I love you."

He leaned forward, and he kissed her, so softly Clara wondered if he thought she was a piece of delicate china. "I love you too," he murmured. She could see he meant it, his eyes had lit up like a Christmas tree. She could barely breath with him so close to her and then he was leaning back and looking in the restaurant window to check out his reflection. "And totally not just because of the bow tie thing," he said nonchalantly and Clara exploded into a teary laugh. She had never felt more content.

She was suddenly feeling a lot more confident about drinks that evening. Regardless of what anyone else thought of her, it didn't matter, because the Doctor was the only person in the relationship who mattered. Nina had been against him at first, but that hadn't bothered Clara and she doubted the Doctor would be inclined to ditch her if his friends didn't approve. After all, the last woman he'd fallen in love with, he'd stopped talking to his own parents rather than dump River. Nevertheless, she still wanted to make a good impression.

She was equally excited to finally see the inside of his flat and the outside of his flat if she was honest. They parked up outside his block and they stepped out. The exterior looked rather plain, it was just another white block, if slightly fancier than her own flat on the Powell Estate. Slightly fancier was pretty much how it ended up. It was very white, almost clinical and nowhere near as homely as Clara's. But she wasn't surprised by this, and it certainly explained why he'd always been so happy to go to hers instead of his. The kitchen area was very clean and very white, as was his lounge, the sofas a light brown. For such an eccentric person, it was a very plain flat.

"It's…" Clara paused. "Nice."

"It's not me at all," he admitted. "But I needed somewhere…different after River, you know what I mean?" She did. "The bedroom's a bit cosier, I promise," he smiled and showed her through to it. It was at least not white, a deep shade of blue, like his car or his bow tie. She twirled, looking around it with a wide smile growing onto her face.

"I love it," she murmured, eventually stopping her examination to face him. "It's very you."

"Well, I thought I'd redecorate since you were coming over," he blushed. "This room was just like any other in the flat, but I thought I'd stop looking back, and start looking forwards." Clara looked at him in disbelief.

"You painted your bedroom because of me?" she asked, the corners of her lips twitching. He shrugged nonchalantly and she kissed him again, their tongues just clipping each other. Their kisses still felt new and fresh to Clara, their tenderness still shocking her. She always expected them to be rougher than they were and she was never prepared for the subtlety and gentleness that the Doctor gave her. She was still so used to Danny's way of doing things. Danny was a blunt instrument. The Doctor was a scalpel.

The guests started arriving about 8, as the Doctor had promised. It started off with just a few people from work, James who Clara recognised and a couple of other blokes, Terence and Clarke, who she'd heard of but never met. They were all physicists and as such, talked at 100mph, made jokes she didn't understand and teased the Doctor, but they were all really nice guys and seemed to get on well with Clara, which was an instant relief. Then Jack Harkness arrived.

Despite hearing a lot about Jack Harkness, Clara had been totally unsure what to expect from him, and sure enough, he defied expectation. He was loud, boisterous and flirted with the Doctor in front of Clara and Clara in front of the Doctor. She didn't know why, but she liked him instantly. Maybe it was the failsafe, cocksure attitude, maybe it was the cheesy grin or maybe it was the fact that he seemed to like her from the moment he met her. But whatever the case, the Doctor got on really well with him and he was a great guy. But in truth, Clara had never really worried about Jack or any of his work friends. She was really worried about…

"Amy!" the Doctor cheered as he opened the door and a tall ginger glided in, a robust, mousy haired guy hot on her heels. "Rory!" he added, not quite an afterthought, but in that zone as he hugged Rory a second after breaking the hug with Amy.

"Doctor!" Amy cried, beaming at him. She was Scottish and fiery and Clara played with one of her curls nervously, suddenly feeling as if nothing she could do would impress Amelia Pond. "How have you been? It's been months! We've not seen you since Christmas!"

"Yes," he grinned. "Well, I've been a tad busy. Amy, Rory, this…" Clara felt her stomach tighten. "This is Clara Oswald!" They both snapped to look at her and she gave them a little wave, curtseying and immediately feeling stupid. "She's my new girlfriend!"

Clara instantly felt judged. She sensed the word 'new' was both unnecessary and problematic. Rory seemed nice enough as he smiled at her, but Amy looked stunned. Like she didn't quite know what to say. Rory and the Doctor shared a look and then Rory was hustling over to see Clara as the Doctor escorted Amy through to the kitchen. Clara felt sick.

"Hello!" Rory said politely, almost cheerfully, but with more than a hint of awkwardness as they both knew exactly what was going on. "Rory."

"Clara," she said, almost absent-mindedly. "Pleasure. The Doctor tells me you've known him a long time? Ten years I think he said?" Rory nodded and Clara whistled. "Impressive. How do you put with him for so long?" she teased. Rory laughed at that, but it was a hollow laugh. "Your wife, she doesn't like me." Clara was not in any mood to beat about the bush. Rory flinched.

"She doesn't know you," Rory replied, as if this explained anything. Clara raised an eyebrow and Rory hung his head. "She's never gotten over River. I'm not sure quite what she's expecting from him, but maybe this is her way of coping."

"Would she rather he drank himself into an early grave?" Clara muttered darkly and Rory's eyes widened at this. "Sorry," Clara went crimson. "That was uncalled for. And it's none of my business."

"No," Rory sighed. "You're right. He almost drank himself to death on our watch, Amy has no right to judge you. And she's not. Give her time," he said soothingly. "She'll come around."

Clara was worried she was already making a bad impression, so she spent the next hour or so chatting with Rory, trying to convince him that she was not in fact the bitch she had made herself out to be in those opening salvos. Rory was a nurse, Amy a journalist for fashion magazines, formerly a model. They didn't live in London anymore; they lived up in York, so they were miles away from the Doctor and as such, saw him but rarely. Clara could only imagine what that must be like, watching your best friend combust from afar and being unable to stop it happening. She felt guilty for her brashness towards Amy. That guilt didn't last. She learned how Amy and Rory met each other and the Doctor. The Ponds had grown up together in a small sleepy town called Leadworth and had met the Doctor and River when they moved to London.

In return, she shared stories about herself, the death of her mother, how she ended up being a teacher and how she had met the Doctor. She and Rory were finally starting to get along, when Amy stormed out the kitchen, looking white as a sheet. Clara and Rory's eyes locked and Amy was stumbling towards them.

"Rory," she breathed. "We need to go!" Clara was worried now and as Amy dragged Rory towards the door and Rory made his excuses, Clara raced towards the kitchen. She pushed open the doors and swore slightly loudly. The Doctor was sat on the floor, a bottle of vodka in his hand, puking over himself. The bottle of vodka was more than half empty and vomit was spewing out of his mouth like he was coughing, flooding down his front in fits and starts. Clara ran to his side, moving his head so he was throwing up to the side of him. He was moaning and she listened to what he was saying.

"Amy!" he gasped. She shook her head, tears falling as she tried to shake him awake.

"No Doctor, it's Clara," she sobbed, paralysed. She didn't know what to do. She'd never seen him like this before, anyone like this before. She was so unsure, so unhelpful. "Doctor?"

Thank heavens for Jack Harkness. Because at that moment he entered the kitchen, saw the state of play and took over. He leaned beside the Doctor, shooting Clara a reassuring smile. He didn't ask any questions, he just removed the bottle from the Doctor's hand and picked up his friend.

"Where are you taking him?" Clara asked breathlessly, trying to regain her composure. She'd seen people drunk before, but not like this. This was something else.

"The shower," Jack replied grimly, pausing as he looked at Clara. "Can you get the others out of here, I don't want them to see him like this. The last thing he needs is people at work seeing this, he's supposed to be six months sober."

The rest of the night passed in a blur for Clara. She managed to make excuses on the Doctor's behalf and get everyone else out of the flat, with Amy and Rory having already gone. Clara was going to have strong words with Amy next time she saw her, hopefully before that over the phone. The Ponds had a hotel room booked, as the Doctor didn't have a spare room, so they'd hopefully still be around in the morning. Clara was livid with Amy and not exactly happy with her boyfriend either. Even so, it was impossible to feel anything for him other than pity as she helped Jack strip him down to his boxers and clean him up, hopefully sobering him up slightly on top of that. He was still muttering as they put him to bed and Clara felt incredibly awkward. She had work the next day and had no idea what she was going to do.

"You alright?" Jack asked kindly, sitting opposite her. It was only 10pm, so she could still go home if she wanted to. "You going to stick about or shall I?"

"I'll stay," Clara told him. It wasn't a question. She wasn't about to abandon him, not now. "You can go home Jack, I've got it from here." She wasn't sure of herself, but she knew that she needed to be here with the Doctor. To fix this mess, even if it wasn't her mess to fix. They were in it together now, whether the Doctor liked it or not. Jack nodded and pressed a reassuring hand to her shoulder before leaving.

Clara made herself a cup of tea and sighed. She was more than happy to call in sick the next day, make her excuses. She had been coughing and sneezing all day, in case she'd needed to pull a sickie and she hadn't pulled one in the handful of years she'd worked there, even when Danny had begged her to, because she knew it would look suspicious. They'd believe her. She needed to look after the Doctor. Clara went to see how he was doing. He was sprawled out over his bed and she pushed him aside to make room for her. She crawled in beside him and kissed his forehead as he rolled and grunted beside her.

She was woken a few hours later by the sound of a gunshot.


	6. May

***Hello true believers! First off, apologies for that cliffhanger, I couldn't resist. So, this chapter deals with the fallout of the previous one and really focuses on the issue of the Doctor's drinking. I've tried to make it seem both serious and equally, not something I want to over arch this story too much, because I think whilst it's something Clara has to deal with, it's also something that the Doctor himself has already dealt with. Anyway, I hope you like it. Thank you so much for all the reads, reviews, follows and favourites, you guys have been incredible. Please, please, continue to let me know what you think of this story! TPD***

* * *

Clara screamed as she heard the gun go off and dived under the covers, peeking out after a moment or two. She could hear screams, dogs barking and thunderous noise going on. But it wasn't as close as she had first imagined. It was outside the window and she allowed herself to breathe a huge sigh of relief. It was 1am and she clambered out of bed, still wearing her dress from the night before. The Doctor was spread-eagled on the double bed, drooling like a child and occasionally mumbling incoherent things. He was going to have one hell of a hangover. She crossed to the window, where someone was lying in the street. She could see the person from up here and it wasn't anyone she recognised. Nevertheless, she was about to dive for her nearby phone to call the police when she heard sirens. Other people must've been aware then. Down below her, the commotion was fierce, as police and ambulance pulled up and half a dozen people were in dressing gowns and shouting from the street. Clara climbed back into bed. There was nothing she could do.

She woke to the smell and sounds of vomit. She'd set an alarm for 8 so she could call the school. This was pre-alarm and a quick glance at the Doctor's clock on the side told her that it was nearly quarter to 8. She sighed and clambered out of bed to peek into the en-suite bathroom, where the Doctor was hurling into the toilet.

"John?" she asked as tenderly as she could. She rarely used his real name, but this was one of those occasions. "Honey? Are you alright?"

He didn't answer, as he was too busy throwing the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Clara paused and then grabbed her phone, calling the office at her school and putting on her best sick voice. He continued to projectile vomit and she left the bathroom so that they wouldn't hear him vomiting as she said: "Hello! This is Clara Oswald, I won't be able to come in today, I'm too…" Then she held out the phone so they could hear him vomit for around twenty seconds. "Sorry," she moaned, even throwing in a cough. "I may be out tomorrow as well, I should be back by Monday though…" she gave them some more of John vomiting as she awaited the green light and sure enough, they told her to take as long as she needed.

"You're welcome!" he groaned at her from the toilet and she smiled at this. "I feel as though someone stamped on my head and stomach repeatedly. What happened last night?"

"You relapsed apparently," Clara said, trying not to let her anger show in her voice. "I don't know why or how it happened, you were with Amy," she added, gritting her teeth. "I found you lying in a pool of your own vomit, vodka in hand. You need to call Jack Harkness, you owe him one hell of an apology and a thank you. He showered you and made me get rid of your colleagues so rumours don't spread at work. Well, rumours might spread but frankly, I'm willing to claim you wanted a ravenous night of sex rather than let on that you turned back to the booze." Clara sighed. "Do you need me to call in for you?"

He took a minute to empty his stomach before answering. "Nah, I can pretty much go in whenever I want. If needs be, I can just tell them that you pulled a sickie and we cuddled up in bed all day. Which isn't exactly a lie just not the whole truth. Remind me to send Jack a bottle of champagne. Oh God Clara, I am so sorry."

She bit her lip. She was angry with him, she knew that much. But she knew he was suffering enough and it wasn't him she was really angry at, truthfully. She was searing with anger, bubbling over at Amy. Clara didn't want to say that it was her fault he was drinking, because she hadn't seen what had gone on, but he'd been sober before that point, hadn't he? She was suddenly filled with dread. What if this wasn't the first time he'd slipped? In any case, Amy hadn't stopped it and whatever else she had done; she had run away, leaving her best friend throwing up on himself. Clara was beyond livid.

"Please tell me this is the first time you've done this since we met," Clara said, trying to keep her voice even but it was breaking with fury. "Please tell me you've not been secretly drinking for weeks." She needed it to be true. She didn't know what she'd do otherwise.

"This is the first," he croaked. "I promise. I swear it Clara."

She believed him. She didn't need to be looking into his eyes, but she was anyway and there was a sadness and a desperation in them. He was a man who had slipped, nothing more. Whatever had made him slip…Clara was seething. She refused to face one possibility which had been floating around in her mind, haunting her. What if Clara herself was the reason he slipped? She didn't want to consider that. She needed to see Amy.

"I'm going to make you some dry toast," she informed him quietly. "Then I'm going to go and see Amy and Rory. Where's their hotel, I know you have the address written down somewhere?"

"Clara don't…" he muttered.

"Either you remember what happened last night," she snapped. "And you tell me, or I'll have to ask Amy. So I'll ask again, where's the address?" She was in no mood for messing. Clara wasn't usually a fierce person but as Danny had learned the hard way, she could be a real handful when she was pissed off. And boy oh boy was she pissed off now.

"I wrote it on a post-it note," the Doctor groaned. "On the fridge."

Clara let out a sigh of relief and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll bring you your toast," she said gently. She went through to the kitchen and fished around for some bread. She dropped it into the toaster and stuck the kettle on, fishing around in the fridge for some milk and butter. She took another deep breath and ripped the post-it off of the fridge, pocketing it. She made two cups of tea and two batches of toast, heading back into his bedroom. He had stopped throwing up and was sat groaning on his bathroom floor. She handed him his toast and tea and he smiled sadly.

"I fucked up," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said softly, nibbling on toast with one hand, stroking his cheek with the other. "You're okay. As long as it's only a slip. I'm here for you. You had it all under control, I know you did. I'm going to help you get it back under control."

He sat there, looking pitiful as he ate his toast and drank his tea and Clara could see his body was wrestling with itself to keep it down. She was starving, so finished off her toast quickly, drinking her tea in double quick time as well. She sighed as she stood up, moving to kiss the top of his head before she left.

"I'm going to see Amy and Rory," she said in what she had hoping would be a reassuring voice, but came out as more of a mutilated snarl. "I'm also going to get some bits and bobs from mine, as it looks like I'll be here for a few days," she added with a smile. "I won't be more than a couple of hours, think you can cope without me that long?" the voice was teasing, but it had an edge to it. He nodded glumly. "Okay, I have my phone if you need me." Clara crossed the room to grab her handbag and stuffed her phone and purse into it, she shot him one final, wistful smile before leaving.

She knew she was being selfish, giving into her anger and desire to know the truth when she should be staying to take care of him. But she didn't care, in all honesty. She had thought she was going to die just hours previously, she had had to shower him and put him to bed, albeit with help and she had been sold up the river by Amy. And worse, Amy had hurt him. And even if Clara was doing this for herself, she also knew he deserved an explanation and Amy deserved to have to answer for her actions.

Clara found the hotel easily enough, it was a ten minute walk. Helpfully, the Doctor had written the room number on the post-it, so Clara was able to walk through reception and up to the second floor where Amy and Rory were staying. She rapped on the door a couple of times and it was Amy who answered it. Clara slapped her hard, the resounding crack satisfying her as Amy's head flew back.

"Fair enough," Amy grunted. "I deserved that." Clara slapped her again. "And that."

"You left your best friend who used to be dependent on alcohol lying in a pool of his own vomit, pissed off his face where all his co-workers could see him, despite the fact he nearly lost his job the last time he was drinking," Clara said, in a voice so venomous, she could see Amy visibly pale and not just from the words she was saying, but the way she said them. "You're lucky I only slapped you," Clara growled. She was still tempted to punch Amy so hard her teeth shattered. "Now what the fuck happened last night?"

Amy invited Clara in to sit on the bed. Rory was there, looking decidedly awkward as Clara sat down. He focused on tying his shoelaces as Clara took deep breaths and forced herself not to hit Amy again. Amy's cheek was red raw from where Clara had slapped her and Clara at least got a kind of grim satisfaction out of that.

"So," Amy was shaking slightly and Rory gripped her hand to support her. She could see it in Rory's eyes. The same anger and distaste she was feeling, but he had to stand by Amy, because he was her husband. Everyone else would judge her, but not him. "I was feeling pretty hacked off when I saw you, because I couldn't believe he'd just find someone else, not after River. And I told him that. I said…hurtful things." Amy paused and Rory spoke up.

"Maybe she shouldn't know all of it…"

"No!" Amy snapped at him. "She deserves to know. I told him that he was betraying River's memory and that you were nothing more than a fling, a rebound and it would be kinder, nobler, to let you know that now, rather than drag you through the ringer. And he…he got pretty angry at that. I didn't even see the bottle of vodka, I was too busy yelling. We argued for almost an hour, yet I didn't seem to notice or care how much he was drinking, straight from the bottle as well."

Clara was trying to hold in her emotions, her disgust and her anger. She didn't care what Amy said about her, but she had driven the Doctor to booze and worse, she had let it happen in front of her, it wasn't as if she'd left him alone and come back to find him guzzling it. Clara was shaking with rage, but all she did was clench her fists so hard her nails dug into her palm to the point where she broke the skin.

"And I kept yelling, kept telling him to look at himself and ask him what River would say about you Clara, about the person he'd become, a shell of his former self. I don't know where it all came from," Amy was letting her own tears fall and Clara had to contain herself. She wanted to scream that Amy had no right to cry. "And before I knew it, he'd started slurring his words. I tried to stop him after that, but he drank more just to spite me. I…"

"You?" Clara asked sarcastically, having absolutely no sympathy for Amy.

"I left him there," Amy whispered and Clara bit her lip to stop herself from yelling. "I panicked Clara, I didn't know what to do. So I grabbed Rory and I…"

"And you left him," Clara finished. "Left him for me and Jack to clean up. Not that I mind of course, I know what I signed up for. But that doesn't make it right!" Clara's anger hadn't abated in the slightest. "What if it had been someone he worked with who found him?" she yelled, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. "What if his boss found out? He lost his job? Then what Amy? 'I'm sorry' doesn't quite cut it then, does it? 'I panicked' doesn't quite cut it, does it?" Clara knew her words were cutting deep because Amy was almost in tears but she didn't care. Rather her words than her fists and it was one or the other, as far as Clara was concerned.

"Well fuck you," she continued. "Fuck you. Because you fucked up Amy. And you're just fucking lucky there's no harm done. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to spend my day rubbing his back while he vomits. Try calling in a few days, when it's all cooled down. I'm sure he'd be happy to hear your apologies first hand." Clara went for the door.

"Clara!" Amy called after her and Clara turned, her eyes narrowed to slits. "Look after him."

"Oh believe me," Clara said, her voice tender now and she gave Amy a small smile. Whatever she'd done, she was still his friend. "I will. He'll be fine Amy." And she meant it.

* * *

The next few days were intense, difficult. The Doctor was all over the place that Thursday, a pit of self-loathing and vomit. Clara went back to him with clothes for a few days and some work to do and he was still throwing up when she got back. She spent most of that day trying to comfort him, but it was a rough day for both of them, as he threw up and she wrestled with how much to tell him about the previous night. In the end, she told him most of the truth: that Amy had said hurtful things, things that drove him to booze and then she abandoned him. She didn't say that a lot of what Amy had said was directed at Clara, as she sensed that he would be far more annoyed if he knew. It was stupid really, to think that out of all the things Amy had done, that it would be the fact that she insulted Clara that would push him over the edge, but Clara sensed that that would be the case. They also heard more about the shooting in the alleyway, a gang fight gone horribly wrong, the police were still mopping up after it.

Friday was a better day for the Doctor, but Clara wasn't sure how to proceed. She hung about him awkwardly, almost like she didn't know quite how to react to him. Things just felt weird between them, like neither of them was quite sure how to go about things after what had happened. On Saturday, Jack stopped round to check on him and the Doctor bought Jack a bottle of champagne, as he had told Clara that he would and on Sunday, just before Clara was going to head home, Amy called to apologise. The Doctor seemed angry, but Clara could see that he was going to forgive Amy and by the end of the call, that was pretty much exactly what had happened. Clara was glad, despite her own bubbling resentment towards Amy, she was happy that the Doctor didn't feel the same way.

She saw the Doctor on Wednesday evening for dinner, as ever and, having given herself a few days just to put the alcohol incident from her mind, she was feeling a lot better. It had become little more than a lingering doubt, more prevalent than it had been before, but nevertheless, still just niggling at the back of her mind, not affecting her conscious thought or behaviour. She'd not told Nina what had gone down, she could go without an 'I told you so' lecture. Even if the Doctor did slide back into alcoholism, which Clara took the liberty of doubting because he still seemed disgusted with booze, then she still stay by his side. The last almost four months had been amazing and she wasn't about to jump ship on him.

"So I spoke to my dad again," she slipped in casually over dessert, a shared ice cream sundae. The Doctor had a spoon in his mouth at the time, licking it clean and it hung there casually, as he tried not to overreact. Eventually, he removed the spoon and sipped on his water.

"And?" the Doctor asked, shooting her a small smile and watching her carefully. They were examining each other, their eyes fixed in the other person's face, both of them trying to read the other. Clara started giggling at this and his own face relaxed, and he leaned back in his chair, a sure fire sign that he was relaxed. He wasn't straightening his bow tie either, despite the fact that it was clearly wonky.

"He's cooking Sunday lunch for me and my grandma," Clara smirked. "You up for it?"

"Definitely," he responded, his smile widening at the idea. "I mean, it seems like we've been going out for forever and I've still not met your family, it's crazy!" Clara blushed at this. "What time should I pick you up on Sunday?"

Clara loved how he assumed he was picking her up. It made her feel both guilty and fuzzy inside. Her inability to drive made their relationship ever so slightly askew, like his bow tie on a good day, but it was something she kind of liked as well. He picked her up, he drove her around and it always gave her the opportunity to invite him over to hers, as he was constantly dropping her home. She had already decided that she didn't like his flat, both for its clinical nature, and also because of what happened while she was over there. She hadn't said it to him and she didn't know if he'd pick up on it, but in any case, she knew that they'd inevitably end up back at hers anyway, so it would make no difference.

"Noon," she replied with a cheeky grin.

Sure enough, true to form, they ended up back at Clara's that night and after snuggling up whilst watching Home Alone with a blanket and tea, he kissed her goodnight. His kissing was getting better, she had to admit, or maybe it was just that their rhythm made more sense. To Clara, it felt like everything between them was perfect. And yet, she had that small feeling in the pit of her stomach, like something was wrong. It was because she had seen him at his worst. She had always imagined him being strong, being amazing, so seeing him so vulnerable, so pitiful, it had shattered the grand illusion that she had built up of him. And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing for Clara, or for their relationship, but it left a nagging feeling inside her, one that she wasn't sure she could quench.

But, come Sunday at noon, she was feeling positive. The Doctor picked her up, as he always did and they shared a kiss before walking to the car. There wasn't a lot of time for idle chat, as Clara was on navigation duty, but he still made her smile with his insightful comments and rambling speeches. She could feel the nerves emanating from him and he even straightened his bow tie at one point, despite the fact that they were in motion. He had worn the birthday bow tie; the eyes she thought matched his eyes. She suspected it would be the one for special occasions from now on. He referred to it as his favourite bow tie when she mentioned it in passing, while they were on a long straight and she could feel herself blushing before shouting at him for being in the wrong lane approaching a roundabout, despite the fact it was her getting distracted that had caused it. She probably would have been nervous even if he wasn't, but his nerves proved infectious and Clara couldn't shake them, despite her overwhelming positivity at what was coming.

They arrived at her dad's place shortly before 1, which would apparently give them a chance to chat with her father before her grandma arrived for lunch/dinner at 2. Clara was feeling the butterflies as they parked up and rapped gently on the door. She went to straighten the Doctor's bow tie, as the 85 degree angle it was at was driving her nuts. She just finished as her father opened the door, a broad grin plastered on his face.

"Clara!" he enthused, pulling her into a big hug and turning to the Doctor. "You must be John! Or, as Clara says, the Doctor?"

"Yes sir, that's me, the Doctor." He offered out a hand and Dave shook it, their hands clasped for little more than a moment but Clara still felt tense. Luckily, neither of them tried to break the other's hand and Dave ushered them inside cheerfully. Her father's flat was smaller than hers, which was only to be expected, considering he lived alone. The smell of roast chicken filled the air and Clara took a deep breath to absorb it. She didn't know how she was such a poor cook, when her father was so great at it and her mother hadn't been terrible either. The Doctor was also absorbing the rich smells coming from the kitchen and nodded approvingly.

"Dinner smells delightful!" he commented and Clara smiled inwardly. Complimenting her father on his cooking was a solid start. She could see from the look on her father's face that he was impressed already. Clara allowed herself to relax a bit.

"So how did you meet my daughter?" Dave asked, a smile on his face as he ushered them through to the lounge, offering tea which they gratefully accepted. Clara had mentioned how the Doctor liked his tea, so Dave had already made them cups when he heard them pulling up. "She never said."

"You never asked!" Clara shot back with a giggle, as she leaned in to rest her head on the Doctor's shoulder, with Dave sat on the opposite sofa. "It was at a New Year's party for the Doctor's work."

"I work at UCL with Nina," he explained, unsure how much Clara had told her dad. "Physics department. So I was sat at this boring party and the most beautiful girl in the room plonks herself down next to me and introduces herself. Naturally, I was flabbergasted."

"He was so nervous, I'm surprised he managed to tell me his name," Clara giggled. "But we kind of hit it off, started chatting. I didn't think I'd see him again after that though, poor thing was so terrified he didn't even ask for my number."

"I didn't see you rushing to ask me out either!" the Doctor shot back playfully and Dave chuckled from across the room. "So a week or so later, I'm sat in the café at work, grabbing a drink on my break and who should come crashing in, looking like a lost puppy, but Clara Oswald herself. And on this occasion, I did ask her out."

"Only after I asked you out first and you had to politely decline!" Clara interrupted with a small smile. But her heart had sank slightly. She didn't want her father to know about the drinking, as she knew what he'd say. "You and your bloody late night experiments."

Luckily, the Doctor ran with it, shooting her a sad smile but playing along. "The work of a physicist is never done!" he laughed, but it was a hollow laugh and Clara could feel the pit of her stomach rising. She wanted to say something to the Doctor, to reassure him, but he looked so passive, so fine with it, that she couldn't, even when her father left the room to check on food.

Her gran arrived shortly after that and they had to retell the story of how they met for her, which was equally cute and amusing, but still didn't ring true for Clara. She didn't know what it was that was bothering her, she couldn't pinpoint it, and it wasn't until they were leaving that she realised that she had been lying to them about the Doctor's alcohol problems all day. Refusing wine on his behalf, every time a story involved drinking she shifted the subject cleverly, he had taken it all in his stride but she felt guilty and wanted to say something to him about it.

The day had been a success otherwise, the Doctor laughed and joked along and her father and grandmother thought he was amazing. Which was good, because Clara thought he was amazing as well. It wasn't until they pulled up outside her house again that he sighed and bit his lip.

"Do you want to come in?" she asked cheekily, but he shook his head and the stomach pit grew. She didn't understand why and maybe he didn't either. "What is it?"

"I don't need you to lie for me Clara," he said quietly. "There are times when I've been a drunk, you don't need to hide that from your father. And you can't sweep it under the rug, because it happened. I see how you look at me you know, when I have a drink. Whether it's water or wine, you're always thinking about it. You're ashamed of it. Of me."

"I'm not," she snapped, too quickly, and he raised an eyebrow. "My dad doesn't need to know about it, it is none of his business. I don't feel the need to parade your problems in public, but that doesn't mean I judge you for it. I'm sticking by you, because I care about you, so much and I can't imagine what I'd do if something happened to you."

"But that's not the point!" he groaned, punching the wheel. Clara didn't flinch. "The point is that you look down on me for it, for my weakness. And you. You're…"

"I'm what?" Clara asked dangerously.

"You're perfect!" he shouted and she felt her heart skip a beat. "Clara, you are perfect. Your last relationship with Danny, your Achilles heel…it wasn't your fault. You were the victim."

"River's death wasn't your fault either," she said firmly.

"No, but what happened after was." He paused. "I drank. I have this…this weakness. Alcohol is and always will be something that you look at me differently because of. And you don't have that. You don't have that one thing, that one key weakness. That thing that makes me see you in a different light. And I don't know what that means. I don't know how to deal with the fact that you're so amazing and I'm so…broken."

"But you're not broken," Clara snorted incredulously. "Stop being such a big baby. You lost a lot, I lost a lot a long time ago and there was a long time where I made mistake after mistake. But I got over it. You let this alcohol thing rule you and you fall into a trap of your own making. You are strong. In the months I've known you, I've seen you drink and it not have an effect on you. It's psychological; it's in your head. I'm just…" She couldn't lie to him.

"You're just what?"

"I'm worried about you!" she replied. "And you're right, I'm judging you. And I hate myself for it, but I'm only judging because I'm trying to gauge if I need to worry about you. I'm terrified that you'll slide down this road, but that's my problem. And that's my weakness. I can't stop myself from seeing the worst in you, when all you've ever shown me is the best. Because I am so scared that you and I are perfect for each other that I have been targeting the only thing about you that isn't every bit as wonderful as I hoped it would be."

There was a very long, very pregnant pause, as they stared at each other from across the car. Clara wasn't crying, but only just and she threw her arms around him after what seemed like an eternity, pecking his cheek as she thrust her head into his shoulder.

"I think this was our first real fight as a couple," he murmured and she giggled at that. "First of many I hope. I mean, I hope we last long enough to have loads of…"

"I knew what you meant," she whispered. "I really do love you, fuck's sake."

"Yeah and I love you too," he groaned. "What a pair of hopeless romantics we are, eh?"

They sat in silence for a moment before they started kissing and when they broke, Clara was staring into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Clara muttered.

"Don't be," his eyes were swimming. "You're right, it's in my head. I just need to face it. And I know that whatever you say or do, you'll support me nevertheless."

That night was the first night Clara really thought about their future together. She hadn't really imagined herself in ten years but now, when she did, she could only imagine the Doctor beside her.


	7. June

***Hey guys! Another day, another chapter and this is another cute one. I really hope you guys enjoy it, as it was really fun to write. Also a shorter one, 4000 or so. Also, a bit of a smutty one. Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited, please keep reviewing! TPD***

* * *

Clara was stressed. End of year exam season had hit and the stress that the kids had to face was nothing compared to Clara's. She knew that she was judged on how her classes did, but for the life of her, she couldn't work out how to get them to concentrate on how important these exams were. She almost didn't care about her own performance review, she cared more about the fact that her kids needed to do well to get into A-levels and good jobs. Her A-level students needed no motivation of course, but that didn't make things any less stressful for her, as the amount of stupid last minute questions that had her tearing her hair out was escalating. She felt as though she rarely got any time for herself and she'd been seeing less of the Doctor as a result, which upset her greatly. So when she heard him knocking on her door one evening after work, she was both pleased and frustrated.

"I told you not to come over!" she said with a smile as she stepped in to kiss him and he shrugged as he kissed her back. "I've got so much work to do."

"Well then, it's a good thing you have me to fill you up with a constant resupply of tea and helpful comments," he smirked. "Did you do something with your hair? It looks lovely."

"I haven't washed it in a week you arsehole," she giggled, shooting a playful elbow into his side and running a hand through the tangled mess that sat on top of her head. She'd had it cut a few weeks previous, so it just grazed her shoulders, her dark brown infused with lighter shades here and there. He hadn't noticed of course, despite the fact that it had been almost down to her breasts beforehand. "How's work?" she asked casually, as she hadn't seen him in days.

"Fun!" his eyes lit up as he said it. "We get to play with the new super proton laser, which is fucking awesome, by the way!" Clara rolled her eyes. "But it's not the same thing as seeing you." Another eye roll. They were into the kitchen and she flicked the kettle on before turning to smile up at him.

"I've missed you," she admitted, burying her head into his chest, breathing him in, inhaling his smell. It was intoxicating, Clara couldn't cope. It had been far too long since she'd seen him and far too little joy had been had for her in the meantime. She snuggled up to him for what seemed like an eternity, before the kettle went and scurried over to pour tea. He let out a chuckle as she turned sheepishly back to him, handing him a mug. They stood in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, sipping tea, before Nina crashed in.

"Hey Doctor," she saluted and he saluted back. It had become a silly little ritual between them that Clara found exasperating but hilarious. "I thought you were busy miss?" Nina's tone was simultaneously scolding and teasing and Clara bit her lip to avoid giggling.

"I'm here to aid the delightful Miss Oswald in any and all needs she may require!" the Doctor informed Nina. They were sharing a look and Clara didn't like it. Nina's eyes flicked back to Clara and she had that smug look on her face again. "Shall we Clara?"

"Hmm," Clara quizzed Nina with her eyes as they walked towards Clara's bedroom, but Nina's face gave nothing away. Clara crashed down on her bed, watching as the Doctor crossed the room with a smile on his face. She let him kiss her for a few seconds and then she sat up to break it and he gave her a fake frown.

"I need to work!" she told him, swatting at his arm as he chuckled. "Stop being such a pain!"

"How badly do you need to work?" he purred, as he climbed onto the bed, gently pushing back down so that he was straddling her, kissing her lips gently as she smiled up at him. "Are you sure you can't take a break?"

"Maybe ten minutes!" she teased, kissing him again and wrapping her arm around his neck. "I suppose fifteen at a stretch." His chest was pressed against hers and he was practically lying on her now, propping himself up slightly with his elbows but his pelvis was just gently rubbing hers. She breathed deeply and rolled him so that she was on top. She threw off her top, leaving her in joggers and a bra. He leaned up to unclip it and she giggled as he dispatched her bra to some far, loathsome corner of her bedroom. She leaned in, her breasts hanging in front of his face, her hair a curtain around their heads as they kissed again.

She rolled off of him, giving him time to rapidly strip as she wrenched off her joggers, leaving her in her knickers and him his boxers and then he jumped on her, kissing her fiercely. Her mouth went to his neck and she gasped as he nibbled on her nipple. He pressed her back against the wall and Clara moaned as he slipped a finger in below her waistline. She gripped him harder and slid a hand down his boxers. They worked in tandem, pleasuring each other gently at first, then slightly harder, their lips back together again, their tongues moving at a similar rate to their hands. It felt more like a dance than sex and even when their pants were removed and he entered her, it still felt more like a beautiful picture than an ugly raucous thing. Her hips met his every time he thrusted and she breathed hot air into his mouth. She moaned louder and louder as he brought her closer to the edge and then she crashed, ecstasy washing over her as she screamed his name and he grunted hers as he finished inside her. He pulled out and she slumped against the wall, whilst he toppled backwards onto the bed. Clara gasped for air, reaching out, trying to expand her lungs.

"Christ that beats using my right hand!" he muttered, looking up to catch Clara's eye and she laughed, a breathless but sweet sound as she stared into his eyes.

"I agree," she winked mischievously and his eyes widened. "Oh for…" she pushed off the wall and crashed onto the bed beside him. "I really do have to work you know," she groaned, the wave of pleasure starting to fade, helped on its way by the realisation that she had work to do. "I don't know about you, but I need a bath."

"Well, we can kill another half hour surely?" The Doctor had this way of making Clara feel naughty, making her want to break her own rules and rethink her own plans. She rolled her eyes and slipped into the en-suite to throw on the hot tap and then returned to him, smiling as she examined his naked body. She had been pleasantly surprised when she'd first seen him naked in the light of day, as he had a very toned and muscled body, compared to what she had expected. His chest was solid, where she'd expected it to sag slightly and his arms bulged slightly, his upper arm and thigh muscles were so much bigger and leaned than she'd anticipated. Clara wasn't overly shallow and hadn't gone out with him based on his looks, but nevertheless, it was nice to be dating someone so strong.

That evening sparked a series of wonderful ones for Clara, as the Doctor ended up staying over almost every night over the next few weeks, making her tea, occasionally making comments on students' essays or her lesson plans and snuggling with her when she became agitated or needed a break. It was almost as if he had moved in at times, and they were becoming closer and closer by the day. The month of June seemed to fly by and the exam period, which Clara had thought would last forever, became infinitely less painful with him around to keep her going. When Clara got too stressed and shouted at him to leave her alone, he'd occasionally go out for drinks with Nina and/or Jack and the pair would stumble back in when Clara was making a fresh cuppa, looking very guilty and muttering some inside joke to each other. It both warmed her heart and pissed her off.

When exams came to an end, there wasn't much left of June to be enjoyed. Then, on the last Wednesday of June, when Clara was at work, she got a rather cryptic text from the Doctor, which made her smile, despite her frantic Year 10 lesson.

_I'm picking you up after school. We're going to my place. And I'm cooking xx_

She chewed on her lip, contemplating a reply. She'd only been round to his once or twice since the incident on his birthday and she'd not mentioned to him her less than overwhelmingly positive feelings towards his apartment. Nevertheless, the idea of him cooking was an exciting one. He never cooked. Neither of them did really, they either ate out on their weekly dates or recently, had ordered takeout or cooked ready meals. Clara had never been a great chef and often lived off ready meals, and that hadn't changed when he'd started spending more and more time in her flat. She knew he was a good cook, or rather she knew he thought that he was a good cook. Apparently Amy always told him he was back in the day. He hadn't spoken much about Amy since that night, almost two months previously, but apparently they'd been talking and Amy wanted to make up for her behaviour. Clara was somewhat sceptical but had kept her mouth shut.

_Sounds amazing, I need to stay to do a bit of work, how does 5:45 sound? Xx_

She smiled to herself as she awaited his reply. She was getting a death stare from one of her 10s. It was the classic: '_We're not allowed phones in class, so why the fuck do you get to text?' _stare, that she always got off at least one child when she texted the Doctor in class, but she didn't really care. Her classes were usually easy to control; it was only occasionally that they got lippy with her, texting or no texting.

_Spot on. See you then, can't wait xx_

* * *

Clara hummed cheerfully to herself as she stood in the car park, waiting for the sight of a blue Focus. Tom was stood beside her, rabbiting on about his Year 11 class, with Clara only half paying attention. She glanced down at her watch and 5:44 became 5:45. She looked up and sure enough, just like clockwork, the blue car holding the Doctor came chuntering into the car park, coming to a halt just in front of her, engine revving. Clara said a quick goodbye to Tom and hopped into the passenger seat, throwing her bag into the back and pecking the Doctor on the cheek as he pulled away.

"You're wearing the special bow tie!" she noted, the green and gold hanging from his neck.

"Well, it's a special evening," he informed her, his eyes alive and his grin mischievous. Clara chewed on her lip to try and withhold her big grin. "I'm cooking after all."

"Well this is either going to be an incredible night," she mused. "Or an unmitigated disaster. So no pressure sweetheart."

He laughed at that, a welcome sound to Clara's ears. She could sense the nerves rolling off him, but she knew that they had been there before she had said the phrase: unmitigated disaster. She knew that the Doctor would come up trumps; it was just a case of how rather than if. The car ride was fast and passed in a comfortable silence, broken only when Clara sang along to her favourite song on the radio, as the Doctor laughed at her, cranking it up so her screams barely outlasted the music. It was the little things that made their relationship work, she decided.

When they reached his place, she was happy to see he had done even more redecorating. Every time she went round, he had made it a little more homely, and she knew that it was for her benefit. The living room had been given a fresh coat of paint and the sofas had russet covers, flecked with orange and yellow. It made the room feel warmer somehow, both more welcoming and in terms of temperature, although would be the wonderful evening sun streaming in through the window, rather than any redecorating on the Doctor's part. She felt better already and took a seat as he fetched her a mug of tea and informed her he was going to start work on dinner. She giggled in excitement and he left her alone in the lounge for about fifteen minutes, so she stuck on the Simpsons, which never failed to amuse her, until he returned, rubbing his hands together and looking excited.

"You managed to not fuck up then?" she smirked, and he didn't dignify it was a response. "What're we even having for dinner, you never said?"

He tapped his nose cryptically and Clara groaned. He was going to make this evening painful. They cuddled for a bit and told work stories, mostly boring stuff but with one or two interesting titbits slipped in as well, before he excused himself and rushed back into the kitchen, emerging with two plates.

"Duck spring rolls!" he announced, Clara's face lighting up at the news. "My starter, Miss Oswald. Tuck in!"

And she did, it was delicious. He had cooked the duck to perfection and as far as starters went, it was top notch. Clara savoured every bite, making sure to make enthusiastic noises to ensure he knew exactly how good it was; although she suspected that he knew how good it was without any prompting from her. He was devouring it every bit as quickly and as lip-lickingly as she was. There was a gap between starters and mains, which after he had checked everything was on schedule; they filled with a little bit more snuggling and watching some rubbish on TV. Clara didn't care what they were watching or how the conversation went. Flying in the Doctor's arms, everything felt perfect.

She had to admit, she was excited for the main course. And as he kissed her lips gently and got to his feet to dive back into the kitchen, she finally could see herself calling his flat home. Him cooking every night, her waiting her patiently, feeling like the most cared for girl in the entire world. She sat up straight when he came staggering out, desperately trying not to spill anything and she snorted with laughter at his ridiculous face and the strange jerking noise that came out of his mouth as he tumbled forwards, somehow maintaining his balance. Clara burst out laughing as he put her plate down in front of her and he flicked his hair back off of his face dramatically.

"Slow cooked beef in a red wine sauce with mashed potatoes and green beans," he smiled at her. "Problem?"

"No," she sighed contentedly as she composed herself. This was the life. "No problem at all," she said and leaned up to kiss him. "This has been an amazing night so far and I'm sure that this main course will top it off."

"You wait until dessert!" he grinned, his eyes twinkling and the sight of it said a small shiver running down Clara's back. "Now, the big question is, did I nail the beef?"

Clara didn't need to try it to know that he had, but when she took the first bite, she thought her taste buds were going to explode, it was so bloody gorgeous. She almost choked, it was that nice. She looked at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"How did you do that?" she accused. "Is there crack in this or something?"

"Just a hint of cinnamon and a sprinkling of ginger," he shrugged. "Why is it that good?"

"Good?!" she exploded. "I want to marry it and have kids with it! How the fuck has it taken you this long to cook for me?" He shrugged again. "I never want to eat out again, you can cook for me every night!" she teased, nudging him gently with her elbow. He looked very pleased with himself and she didn't care that she was inevitably inflating his ego. He deserved it. She was even more excited for dessert, but she didn't know how it could possibly top his main course, which was like sex on a plate. She savoured every bite. The beef was cooked to perfection, the mash was light and fluffy, and the sauce just added an extra layer of goodness. The mash was so soft, it fitted perfectly with the crunchy beans and Clara sipped on the fresh lemonade he'd given her to go with it.

Dessert, however, proved to be where he'd outdone himself. He had baked her a soufflé. More than just any soufflé, but her mum's soufflé. She hadn't even given him the recipe and she suddenly had a strong suspicion that this was what he and Nina had been in cahoots about. She was grateful. She had tried so many times to bake the perfect soufflé but she had never managed it. To be able to taste it, even once more, was a gift that she couldn't thank the Doctor enough for. She kissed him, long and hard, and she was crying, salty tears spilling into their mouths as they kissed. She didn't care; it was how much she loved him in that moment. They eventually broke apart and she stared into his eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much."

"It was the least I could do," he replied, as if it was nothing, when it was everything. "You've given me so much joy these last few months Clara Oswald," he told her. "I just wanted to repay you some of that joy. This was the best way I knew how."

Clara was trying hard to stop crying, but the tears were flowing now, every bite of the soufflé bringing both fresh memories and fresh adoration for the Doctor rolling in at the same time. She was half-tempted to ask him to teach her but she knew what he'd say. That wasn't the point. She had to do it herself. And she would someday. Someday soon, she would get that soufflé spot on, the way that he had.

The rest of the evening couldn't possibly compete and Clara hadn't expected it to be able to. Nevertheless, not every moment of their relationship had to be pure, had to be so explosive, so passionate. The nice, relaxing atmosphere that hung over them for the rest of the evening was enough. The Doctor even allowed himself a glass of wine and, for once, Clara didn't even so much as give it a second thought. It was just a shame that she couldn't stay the night as she had work the next day. He dropped her home and they kissed goodbye on her doorstep. It was the sort of kiss that took her right back to the beginning, back to when they were just meeting, their very first kiss. It had the same intensity, the same connection and that same feeling, like her stomach was about to bottom out, like her legs were about to give way beneath her and like she could fly if she wanted to. Clara never wanted it to end.

But sadly, it had to and she stumbled up the stairs to her flat, barely able to navigate her body properly. She practically fell into the apartment and Nina gave Clara her best prized smirk.

"Good night?" she asked, her smile not wilting for a moment.

"You have no idea," Clara murmured.

* * *

She hadn't known when she would see the Doctor after that. Wednesday had long since stopped being their traditional day, though they still did things whenever they could on Wednesdays, since the day held a special place in both of their hearts and almost every good moment in their relationship had happened on a Wednesday. But, he didn't wait until the following Wednesday, as she strongly suspected that he wouldn't. She got a text on Friday night, asking what she was doing the next day. She had quickly thumbed a reply, telling him that she was free. She was going out for drinks with some people from work that night though, so she might be hungover. He had left a metaphorical pause before telling her to try and be alive before noon. She had giggled at that.

As for managing to be alive at noon, she found that slightly more challenging than she had anticipated, as she rolled out of bed at just gone 11, feeling like hell had exploded inside her stomach. She vomited, had a bath, vomited a little bit more, made herself some toast and then quickly did her hair and makeup as the Doctor arrived at two seconds past noon. He was slipping, she thought as she opened the door to him.

"Sorry I'm late dear," he said cheerfully, kissing her on the cheek rather than the lips, which she appreciated because she was sure, despite numerous teeth brushing, that her breath would stink of vomit. "Traffic was hell." She would have laughed if she trusted herself to do so without throwing up. "You look like you had a good night."

"Is that your polite way of saying I look like shit?"

"No, it's my way of saying that you look like you had a good night. You still have glitter on your eyelashes." Clara blushed crimson. "I'll make you a cuppa."

Clara went to protest about him making her a cup of tea in her own house, but he was having none of it. Clara loved that about him, he was fierce and unstoppable when it came to trying to look out for her. He made the teas, and she sat in the lounge as he did so. As he handed her the mug, her favourite, of course he'd remembered, his phone rang. He rolled his eyes and checked it. He looked like he was going to ignore it, then his eyes bulged and he frowned. Clara went to say something, but he held up a finger and looked straight at her.

"I need to take this," he murmured and then answered the call, skirting off into the kitchen where Clara couldn't hear him.

She was worried; she'd never seen him look so instantly shaken, like he had seen a ghost. He was gone for several minutes and Clara's heart was pounding, both from the hangover and from anxiety on his behalf. He stumbled back into the living room and Clara was on her feet to try and glean what she could from him. He pulled her into wordless hug and then slumped onto the sofa. He was white as a sheet, pale as anything and his face was one of shock. He looked completely drained, as if all the light had been sucked out of him. He opened his mouth and then shut it again and then shook his head.

"What is it?" Clara asked urgently.

"That…that was my mother," he looked into her eyes now. "She's back in England." Clara knew that couldn't be it. She waited, but she had already guessed what his next words would be. "She's home because…because my dad died."


	8. July

***Hey troops! July is the month and this is a biggish one. Dealing with the fallout of last chapter and introducing Mrs Smith to the fray. Also, the return of the Ponds and a six-month anniversary. Anyway, I really hope you guys like this one and as ever, thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, favourited! TPD***

* * *

Clara felt odd to say the least. She had never met the Doctor's father, yet here she was, at his funeral, dressed all in black, stood next to the Doctor, trying not to feel awkward as she squeezed his hand reassuring and leaned up to kiss his cheek. She wasn't sure how he was feeling and she wasn't sure he was sure how he was feeling. He looked at her with a small smile. He hadn't needed to ask her to come, they'd just both kind of assumed that it was going to happen. Everything had happened very quickly, his mother had pitched up a couple of days after she'd called him, looking to him for support, claiming all was forgiven. Clara had struggled to know how to react, so she just stayed silent, supporting him, the same way she knew he would support her. He was a swirling combination of emotions. There were times where he would be so angry and frustrated she would have to stop him punching walls. Then there were times where he was so sad that he was in tears.

But worst was the fact that most of the time, she doubted he felt anything at all. He'd not seen his father in years and their relationship before that had been fractious at best. He was angry with his parents for many things and his mother had reopened old wounds by coming back. His mother had forgiven him, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was, she doubted he'd forgiven her and saying that she'd forgiven him when in his mind, he'd done nothing that needed forgiving was not the best way to endear herself to her son. She'd seen little of Clara and when they had been in the same room as each other, they'd barely said two words to each other. She could sense his mother watching her now, judging her, questioning why she was even here. It was a miracle that the Doctor hadn't felt the need to drink; Clara knew she would want to.

Yet, here they were, holding hands by the side of his father's grave, the Doctor's eyes tearless and hers shifting uncomfortably. It was a fairly dull and uninspiring service, but the Doctor said that that would have suited his father, for he was a rather dull and uninspiring man. Clara could see his mother flinch when she heard that. She was the only one except the priest who spoke, as the Doctor said that if you had nothing nice to say, it was better not to speak at all. Clara doubted he had nothing nice to say, but it was nevertheless his choice.

"Can we go for dinner John?" his mother asked after the ceremony, before shooting a look at Clara, still clinging to his arm, desperate to let him know he was loved. "Alone?" she added, stiffening slightly and the Doctor's eyes narrowed.

"I told you," he said quietly. "I go by the Doctor now. And Clara goes where I go."

"Doctor," she whispered. "It's fine, really…"

"No," his face twisted at his mother. "It's not fine. You've not said two words to Clara mother, since you landed. So tell me, are you so determined to hate another one of my girlfriends that you won't even try, or are you so scared you'll hate her, you've decided it's better not to bother? I love her and I need her by my side."

Clara winced and so did his mother. She nudged the Doctor, desperate for this not to escalate. He'd already lost his mother once and she didn't want him to lose her again, for her to die in another eight years and for him to barely care, purely through stubbornness.

"This is supposed to be a family affair," she sniffed. "Your father's day. And you bring along some…"

"Choose your next word carefully mother," he said through gritted teeth.

"Girl! You've known her how long exactly John? A week? Two?"

"We've been together six months next week!" he said angrily. "And I love her. Look mother, are you going to try and push me away because of the woman I love again? Look how it turned out last time!"

"Yes, she's dead and I'm here for you again, that's how it turned out."

Clara felt her blood run cold. The Doctor was seething, so she pulled him back, away from his mother, who was standing there, the calmest expression on her face, like she was caring for him, like she knew better, almost as if he was a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

"You should have buried him in America," the Doctor spat and Clara didn't bother to try and stop him. Her defensive nature had kicked in, just like it had with Amy. "That way you wouldn't have needed to come back. You always think you know best mother, that you care for me, but where have you been? All these years I've been here, mourning River and you were sat smug over in the US, feeling so superior. Thinking you were what, punishing me?"

"Johnathan Alexander Smith!" his mother straightened up and it was all Clara could do to stop herself from slapping her. "Your father and I have always had your best interests at heart. He died wishing he could come back to England and help you through this difficult…"

"Bollocks!" the Doctor snapped. "If he'd wanted to come back, he would have done. He didn't die in his bed, mother, of some horribly lingering disease, leaving him incapable of flight! He was shot on the streets, a mugging. If he'd given two shits about me, he would have come home when I needed someone. Did you not think that maybe if I thought you were a kind, reassuring person, I might not have needed Clara with me today? But she remains the person who has cared for me the most. Not you, my own mother. Go back to America, you're not welcome here."

He turned to walk away and Clara went with him. She didn't say anything, she wasn't sure that there was anything she could say. She had let the argument unfold and she was still bristling on his behalf from some of his mother's comments, but she didn't know if that meant that for them. Part of her hoped not, but after the display she'd just witnessed, a large part of her was sorely wishing that she never saw the Doctor's mum ever again. That part of her would not be rewarded.

"Alexander?" she asked coyly as they walked away from the cemetery. At least this made him smile.

"Shut up."

* * *

It was two days later when she showed up on Clara's doorstep. Nina had answered the door uneasily, staring at the strange woman on her doorstep. She was tall like the Doctor, with his dark hair and gangly limbs. But her eyes were harsher, black as coal and cold as ice, nothing like his warm greenish gold mix. Clara frowned as Nina called for her and froze to the spot as the Doctor's mother gave Clara that she probably thought was friendly, but ended up just looking twisted. Nina shot Clara a worried look which Clara waved off and walked to the door. Clara had no intention of letting her in but she still tried to step forward, which earned her a scowl. Clara was almost a foot shorter than his mother, but she didn't feel intimidated by her. She wasn't going to be pushed around, especially not by the Doctor's mother. What she was worried about was the emotional blackmail and/or manipulation that was about to occur. She was sure of it.

"Clara?" she smiled again and it made Clara shudder. "My dear, we've not been properly introduced, I'm Mary." Clara held her tongue. "I'm just here to apologise for my treatment of you the other day."

"Is this what happened with River?" Clara asked rudely, not about to play the nice happy game when she was seething with this woman. "Did you knock on her door, playing nice and trying to schmooze up to her? And did River see through it, the way that I see through it? Is that why you didn't like her, because she wasn't pliable? Because she didn't bend to your will? Because you were worried she had more control over your son? Well forget it. I don't want control over the Doctor, and I don't want to stand here and listen to what you have to say, it's between you and him and I'm not getting involved."

Clara went to slam the door but Mary put her foot in the way. Clara's eyes narrowed to slits.

"Please Clara?" she said quietly. Clara wasn't buying it. "I've made so many mistakes in my life and I don't know how to talk to John, I don't know how to get through to him, how to show him I still care."

"For starters," Clara sighed. "Stop calling him John, he prefers the Doctor. If you show him the most basic levels of respect, you might find he will be a little more receptive. He's 30, yet you treat him like he's 10. He's a grown man and a great man and he managed that without you. So either get on board, get behind him and start being supportive, or fuck off."

"Respect?" she frowned, like she was analysing a foreign concept. "But he's not my friend, he's my son. He doesn't need my respect, he needs me to look out for him."

Clara almost punched her. So very nearly. It took everything she had to lower her fist instead of pulling it back and letting rip. This woman was a nightmare. No wonder the Doctor had told her to fuck off back to America. Clara suspected that would be best for everybody.

"If you don't respect your son, if you don't love your son, then I can't help you," Clara snapped. "Frankly, I don't want to help you. I think he's better off without you. Because you don't understand how to be a mother. You don't know the first thing about the Doctor, what he wants, what he needs. How the fuck can you expect to look out for him, if you don't know him? If you don't trust and respect him? You're not some fucking benevolent dictator and you don't get to call the shots, did you not learn that first time round?"

"What I have learned," she said coldly. "Is that my son has an affinity for picking women who lead him down paths that defy his mother. And I shall not stand for it again."

Clara had been right then. This was exactly what she had done with River. Although she suspected River put it in more pointed terms and been a lot less helpful than Clara was trying to be. She bit her lip, there was no way to get around this.

"Talk to your son," Clara implored. "Learn the man your son is, not the man you want to be. You'll find that he's the best man it's possible to find. I did. And I see him as an incredible human being. If you stopped looking at him as a failure because he isn't exactly what you wanted, you might actually see how amazing he truly is." Clara had had enough of this conversation. "Now kindly get off my doorstep, there's a draft."

And with that, Clara slammed the door shut and screamed in frustration. The Doctor had been better off when his mum was in the US.

* * *

That Friday was their six month anniversary, was Clara didn't let his mother bother her. The Doctor had been visited by her again and he'd told her to leave him alone or he'd get a restraining order put on her. He had apologised profusely to Clara and she could see how livid he was that his mother had bothered her, hunted her down in fact. Neither of them knew how his mother had found Clara, but the Doctor suspected she'd visited Clara's school and lied to get her address. Still, they were both determined to make Friday a special day, one that neither of them would forget it in a hurry. He suggested that they got to Titalia again and Clara thought that was an amazing idea. It was her favourite restaurant and the last time she had been there with him had been the night of their first kiss.

He picked her up at 7:30, same as ever, not a second later. She giggled as he held the car door open for her, and then they were zooming down London's backstreets until they pulled up and parked outside Titalia. Dinner passed fairly uneventfully, though it was really nice and sweet and then, over dessert, everything changed.

"Listen, Clara!" the Doctor was picking at his fudge cake and she could suddenly see a wave of nerves crashing over him. He'd been a little anxious all evening, but she'd put that down to the fact it was their six month anniversary and also the fact that his mother had been in town, assuming she'd even left. Now, she could see it was something more and her head was wrangling with the possibilities. "You and I have been together for six months now."

"Hence the dinner," she smirked and felt slightly guilty for rattling him as he wrestled to recompose himself. "I'm sorry, go on dear."

"So," he breathed deeply. "I've been thinking to myself. A lot. About us. And this relationship. And obviously, we're in a good place." Clara could see how nervous he was and how much this meant to him so she reached out to squeeze his hand and didn't interrupt. "And I ask myself: what now? What's the next step? I mean, we're sleeping together, we're happy, we love each other and six months into a relationship, where do I go from here? What's my next move? I mean, I don't want anything to change, but I'm scared. I'm scared that if we don't keep moving forwards, we'll, we'll stagnate." He paused.

"Go on," Clara said tenderly. She couldn't see where this was going but she doubted he was about to propose. What else could it be?

"So, so, when you were all exam stressed, and I was over almost every night, I got…used to it. I mean, I really enjoyed it, it was nice, it felt right. And one night, I just said to myself, wouldn't life just be so much easier if Clara and I moved in together? And first I thought it was crazy. Like, dude, it's been six months, what're you doing? But the more I think about, the less crazy it feels and the more I think…yeah why not? That could work. So what, I'm really trying to ask, in a crazy, roundabout way is…"

"Yes!" Clara replied instantly. His eyes went wide and she rolled hers, leaning across the table to plant a kiss on his lips. Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer and she was breathing quicker, barely able to contain her excitement. "Yes you frigging idiot, I'll move in with you." She didn't need to think about it. She didn't need to consider the consequences. All she knew was that she loved him and she was more than ready for this. The fact that she came alive around him, the fact that she didn't even need to think about it was proof enough that it was the right decision. She kissed him again and he was flustered.

"I mean, there's a lot to work out!" he chuckled. "Where we'll live, when we'll move in there, how much of our stuff we'll both be able to keep…"

"I don't care," Clara murmured. She'd done all of that before, been through the motions with Danny, it was something that she could handle. Besides, she had six weeks off of work in a couple of weeks to figure it all out. "None of that matters, not right now. Worry about all of that nonsense tomorrow, today is just about you and me."

"Agreed," he smiled, looking more relieved than Clara had ever seen him. "Waiter! Champagne! If we're going to celebrate six months, let's celebrate six months." The waiter fetched a bottle of champagne and the Doctor poured himself a small glass and Clara a slightly larger one. They were going to take the rest of the bottle with them, more specifically with Clara. "To us."

"To us," Clara sighed happily and then drank.

* * *

The next couple of weeks passed in a whirlwind for Clara. Telling Nina had been the thing that she had been dreading the most, having lived with her flatmate for only just a year, but Nina was amazing about the whole thing. Clara had expected resistance but Nina offered none, merely restating how much she loved her best friend and how happy she was that Clara had found someone like the Doctor. It meant a lot to Clara and they had a nice tearful evening, where they sat up watching shitty films, eating junk food and reminiscing about old times. For Clara, it felt like something of a last supper, despite the fact that she wasn't going out until probably August, when she and the Doctor found a place that they liked. They knew straight away that they didn't want to live with Nina and Clara had admitted that she found his place a little…unhomely. She couldn't imagine herself living there. They both just wanted a place of their own, that they could call home. They both had quite a bit of money saved up and had good, stable jobs, so it was just a case of finding somewhere that they liked. He'd already started looking, just some quick googling, nothing too in depth yet. But otherwise, they'd not really had time to start looking properly.

School was winding down, the last few lessons of term and the attitude that summer was already upon was one that teachers and pupils shared. Clara had to go to the Year 11 prom, which was hilarious as no less than a dozen pupils were caught drinking vodka and sent home. She felt bad for them, but rules were rules and she didn't want to be the one having to explain to the Head Teacher why sloshed students were allowed to ruin the evening unchecked. The Doctor texted her a couple of times to say that his mother had been over and he'd told her to stop coming round both times, before finally giving her a plane ticket back to New York. Clara half-expected her to turn up at her flat again or worse her school, but fortunately, it seemed as though she had taken the hint.

Danny, however, had got word that Clara was moving in with the Doctor and had taken to making snide comments whenever they were in the staffroom together. Clara would have poured her boiling hot tea over his head, but she could have done without the disciplinary committee meeting. Danny wasn't worth the effort. The trainee had dumped him, so his ego was wounded and he was taking it out on Clara because she was happy and he wasn't. Even Tom had stopped bothering to feed Danny's ego and had just taken to outright ignoring his existence, something that Clara was very grateful for. She couldn't put into words how much she wanted to be rid of him, any lingering feelings she may have had for Danny vanishing as he increasingly became a nightmarish, cruel version of the man she had once loved.

It was very near the end of July when Clara finally finished work for her six week summer holidays. She had plenty of work to be getting on with over the break, but she didn't have to go into the school, which left her completely free to house hunt with the Doctor, who ended up staying in her flat increasingly as they searched for a place to live. That weekend, only a few days after the end of term, he informed her that the Ponds were coming down for dinner on Sunday.

"I know you and Amy got off on the wrong foot," he said quietly as Clara frowned at him. "But trust me, she's my best friend and she's amazing. You two will get on, I know it."

Clara wanted to tell him that she doubted she would ever get on with anyone who had done what Amy did to him, but that would be unfair. Amy had panicked and had clearly regretted what had happened. Clara couldn't say she'd never made mistakes when she was frightened and guilty. In any case, she wasn't about to deny him the opportunity of reconciliation with his oldest and best friend. It wasn't her place. She could only try her best to get on with Amy, for his sake. After all, he had made a superb effort with Nina, whose brash demeanour and blunt attitude sometimes made her unlikeable.

So Sunday rolled along and Clara was at the least tentative about meeting the Ponds again, but the Doctor was there for her and she needed to be there for him. She saw Rory first and smiled at him, even managing a hug with him whilst the Doctor embraced Amy. Clara tried not to feel too uncomfortable as she and Amy locked eyes while Rory embraced the Doctor but when Amy gave her the smallest, tightest smile in existence, she suspected it would be a long night.

"So," Rory asked as they tucked into the Doctor's homemade chicken soup for starters, with thick, crusty bread. "What's new with you two lovebirds?"

"We're moving in together!" the Doctor announced cheerfully, squeezing Clara's hand tightly. Amy choked on her soup. Clara prepared herself for a verbal barrage, but instead got a physical barrage as Amy flew across the table to pull them both into a big hug. It was a strange feeling, this almost complete stranger embracing her and the Doctor simultaneously, but she rolled with it, as Amy was beaming and the Doctor seemed overjoyed by her reaction.

"That's amazing news!" Amy said, before returning to her soup as Rory nodded his agreement. "I'm so happy for you too." Clara was looking for the 'but' but it never arrived. Amy seemed genuinely pleased. She probably was. Clara knew that she loved the Doctor and seeing him happy must have brought Amy untold joy. Clara needed to stop judging her based on that one unfortunate incident, even though it was all she had to judge Amy on except the Doctor's word. Clara just wanted to be able to get past that one night.

And this day was a good start. Amy and Rory got chatting and the charged atmosphere that Clara had expected was rapidly dissipating. She already felt that she had known Rory for a long time and that feeling was extending towards Amy by the time they were heading home, with the promise that it wouldn't be another three months before they visited again. The Doctor made them swear to it as they drove off, heading back to York.

"Well that went well," he said cheerily. Clara couldn't help but agree. As she waved them away, she turned back to him, giving him her most winning smile. He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"It's just," she hugged him and he chuckled as he hugged her back. "I have the best boyfriend in the world and he's also such an amazing person. I'm really proud of you for letting Amy back into your life without so much as a blink. Not many people would be so forgiving." He blinked at her. "I mean look at your mother…"

"Amy's always been there for me," he shrugged. "My mother hasn't. It's easy to forgive someone when they mean so much to you, have done so much for you. It's a lot harder to forgive someone who you know will keep on doing the same things, ignorant of their mistakes."

"Do you think she'll come back?" Clara asked quietly, studying his face. He threw out his arms in an: 'I don't know' gesture. "Soon, I mean."

"My mother is an enigma. She does what she feels like, what she feels is best for her. She may decide to wait until what she perceives as our little fling is over, or she may pop up next week with a thick, fake apology in hand. Who knows with that woman? Now that dad's gone…let's just say he was always somewhat easier going. I told her if he'd wanted to come back for me he would have done. I suspect that's not the whole truth."

"You think she was keeping your dad in America?" Clara gasped, clutching his jacket slightly harder. The Doctor threw out his arms again.

"Who knows!" he muttered. "I wouldn't put it past her. I don't know any more Clara, and I honestly am not sure that I want to know. She'll make a reappearance at some point, whether it's to tell me she's dying or to try and convince me you'll end up in a ditch the same as River…" he sighed. "Heartless woman."

"She loves you I think," Clara mused. "In her own, twisted way. She does genuinely want to help you, protect you. I think she believes her own bullshit and I don't know what to make of that."

"Neither do I Clara," he murmured. "Neither do I."


	9. August

***Hey there guys. First up, apologies for the late upload. I've been shit all weekend and just got round to finishing this chapter. Also, apologies for any spelling/grammar errors, I've not had time to read through it. Anyway, this one sees the first real turbulence in the Whouffle relationship and deals with a few things lingering from July. Oh and apologies for the inevitable huge inaccuracies in the way the schooling system works, I know fuck all about it, yadda, yadda. OH and a smut warning xD Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and as ever, thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited. Please let me know your thoughts. TPD***

* * *

They had a flat. It was a small, two bedroom flat in South London, not far from Clara's school or the University. It was fairly cheap, but also really cosy and Clara had fallen in love with it instantly. The Doctor had spotted that and asked the lovely girl who was showing them around for the paperwork. Clara had protested, but only briefly. They both knew from the moment that they'd stepped into it that it was the flat for them. The master bedroom was warm and welcoming, the bathroom attached to it was luxurious and they had more open space in the kitchen than they knew what to do with. The dining table in the kitchen was big enough for four easily, which meant that they could have people over without any problems and the sofas in the adjoining lounge were more comfortable than the ones at Clara's flat.

She was disappointed to be leaving Nina, but at the same time, she couldn't wait to be living with the Doctor. They'd already worked on the argument of how much of each person's stuff, but had decided to worry about finalising that when they had all their stuff in their new place. They would have to move said stuff separately of course. So on one day, the Doctor pitched up on Clara's doorstep with his Focus and they shoved the entirety of Clara's life onto his back seats. It took them two trips to get everything moved, but the Doctor didn't see the point in hiring a van. Nina went with him on the first trip so that she could check out the new place. Clara obviously went with him the second time around.

Unpacking took forever, even with Nina's help, whilst the Doctor went to pick up his own stuff, again taking two trips. The next couple of days were the settling in period and as expected, it wasn't exactly smooth going. They argued a lot. Over little things. He had an annoying habit of leaving the toilet seat up. She never washed his mugs up properly. How to split the household jobs, who was responsible for the weekly shopping. Things that hadn't seemed important before they moved in, now became annoyances. The Doctor's hairs clogged up the sink when he shaved; Clara spent ages in the shower. He accidently used her shampoo, and that caused a palaver. He seemed scandalised by the knowledge that she dyed her hair, she realised that he was actually incredibly messy.

The next couple of weeks were amongst the roughest of their relationship. They had had every intention of throwing a flat warming party, but as Clara screamed herself hoarse at him for leaving the tap running for hours, and how much water it would cost them, she was starting to question the decision to move in together at all. Maybe they weren't ready. She could tell he had been having the same doubts, but neither of them were willing to voice them. She'd had similar teething problems with Danny, but they had been less prevalent. For starters, there had been less of them. But, more importantly, because she and Danny had spent a lot more time together before they moved in, they were a lot more aware of each other's horrendous habits.

But then, things got easier. They started to compromise. Clara made an effort to stop showering for so long and do more of the housework, because he was cooking almost every night. He stopped leaving the seat up, took more care when shaving and most of the disputes were settled within a week or so. New ones kept cropping up, but they just had to keep even tempers. Which was difficult, they were both slightly on edge and their nerves frayed. The thought that they had made a mistake only perpetuated their problems, and they just had to stick with it.

There had been pressure points, moments that little problems had threatened to erupt into full blown chaos. One such pressure point came one evening when Clara was slightly behind on marking some papers and stressed as a result. She was sat at her desk in their room, whilst the Doctor watched TV in the lounge, oblivious to her stress. That in itself was unlike him, but then they had been spending less time together in an attempt to calm themselves down until things settled back to normal. They'd had sex only twice since moving in, two weeks previously. Clara needed caffeine so went to make herself a cup of nice, hot tea, to soothe her pounding head and relax her jagged nerves. When she opened the fridge, however, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"I told you yesterday!" she said through gritted teeth. "We were out of milk."

"And I told you," he replied, not taking his eyes off the television. "I'd pick some up."

"So where is it?" Clara snapped, trying and failing to keep her temper. "Because I'm looking in the fridge and I'm not seeing any milk."

"It's there!" he frowned, getting to his feet and pointing to his hideous skimmed milk, sitting pretty in the door. Clara could have slapped him there and then, but instead managed to take a deep breath and smile at him. "What?"

"That's red milk sweetie," she said gently, shaking slightly. "You know I hate that stuff. It's basically water. Just like you can't tolerate the blue milk I used to buy. That's why we either buy one of each or compromise and buy green, which we can both stomach. Remember, all those times you came over and I used Nina's milk, joking about how much of a nightmare it would be if we ever moved in together?" Nightmare wasn't adequate.

"Ah!" he froze and then just waved it off. "I'm sorry, I forgot. No big deal. I'll just pick some up tomorrow on my way home from work." He shrugged and went to sit back down. Clara's eye twitched slightly with rage but she forced herself to stay calm.

"It is kind of a big deal," she said, her voice wobbling and going high as she struggled to contain her emotions. "What am I supposed to drink between then and now? After all, I'm not going to drink your milk am I?"

"Can't you go without tea for one day?" he asked incredulously. "Jesus Clara, I made a mistake, it's nearly 10 at night, and you want me to go driving to Tesco now for some, just because you want a cuppa? If it bothers you that much just go yourself!"

"Yes," she snarled. "Because while you're sat on your backside, doing nothing, I'm dangerously behind on work, which means I'm probably going to have to stay up all fucking night to finish it. And seeing as how I'm almost dead on my feet, not to mention stressed, it would be really nice to have one relaxing cup of tea. But because my boyfriend is an arsehole, if I want said cup of tea, I have to walk twenty minutes there and twenty minutes back, in the black of night, when for him it would be a ten minute round trip. So yes, I really can't go without tea for one day and yes, I really would like you to drive there, if it's not too much of an inconvenience, seeing as how it was your lack of regard for me that put us in this situation in the first place."

He stood up at that, wheeling on her and glaring furiously at her. "Lack of regard?" he looked disgusted. "I do nothing but regard you Clara. That's why I'm running around after you, because you can't drive, so whenever we need something urgently; it's always me going to get it. And I never complain, because it's my pleasure. So yes, this once I forgot your milk and yes, I don't want to drive in the dead of night to get some, because shock horror, I've also been working today, on a very stressful experiment and all I want to do, is have an hour to myself in front of the television. I didn't realise that was too much to ask."

"Well if living with me is such a burden then why did you suggest it in the first place?" Clara shouted. She regretted it instantly.

"Because I love you," he replied angrily. "And because I thought it would be easier than this. It shouldn't be this hard Clara, but you're so demanding and pernickety about little fucking things that shouldn't matter."

"Yeah?" she was on the defensive now. "Well I don't ask the world of you, John!" she spat the word, like a weapon and he glared at that. "All I ask is a little bit of something extra now and then. Because when you love someone, driving to get them milk at 10 at night should feel like a privilege, rather than a chore."

"So I'm supposed to feel honoured to be your slave?" he laughed.

"Oh don't be so fucking melodramatic," Clara shot back furiously. "You know what the fuck I mean. There was a time literally last month where you'd make me cups of tea without even asking me if I wanted one. Now, you just sit there and expect me to cope fine without milk. I mean, what the fuck happened?" She sounded exasperated. "Maybe we weren't ready for this."

"Maybe." He sounded every bit as unsure and as frustrated as Clara felt.

"I'm going to stay at Nina's," she muttered, delving a hand into her pocket and pulling out her phone to call Nina and a taxi. "We'll talk tomorrow, when we've both cooled off."

"Sounds good," the anger had slipped away from him, as it had from her, leaving only confusion and blunt disappointment. He sounded upset, but also numb, like he was blocking out the pain as best he could. She knew how he felt.

Nina sounded cheerful until Clara mentioned she and the Doctor needed some time apart to wrap their heads around things. When Clara pulled up and texted Nina to let her in, her friend looked concerned and had every right to be as Clara collapsed into her arms, tears falling down her cheeks. She hated herself for crying, but really, this was a situation where tears were appropriate. Nina told her to sleep and that they'd talk in the morning and Clara strongly suspected that she was right. Nevertheless, sleep was difficult for her to come by, as she struggled to stop thinking about her row with the Doctor. It bothered Clara and when she finally fell into a fitful sleep, the problem infected her dreams, made it impossible for her to relax, even when she was passed out and she rolled around, groaning and moaning.

She felt positively dreadful and Nina made her a cup of tea, which only served to remind Clara of what had occurred the previous night. She explained to Nina, trying not to let her emotions rule over the facts of what had happened, but she knew that she was failing on that front. Nina gave her big, sympathetic eyes as she sipped her own tea and listened, before finally shaking her head and sitting in quiet thought as Clara's story came to an end.

"You love him right?" Nina asked bluntly. Clara didn't dignify that with a response. "Look, you were never going to have a bump free ride Clara, there was always going to be a moment when you two started to question it. Question each other. Every couple has a sticky patch. You just need to hang on in there. You two are the best couple I know." Nina's honesty shocked Clara, she wasn't normally so touchy feely. "So go back and apologise and hope that he does the same. You know you want to live with him and you've worked out 90% of the teething problems. There's no point giving up now, the hardest bit is nearly over. Come here sweetie!" Nina pulled Clara into a hug and Clara sniffed, her nose running from all the tears of the previous night. "I'm sure you need to get back, you have a lot of work to do after all." Clara nodded. Nina was right. She usually was.

When Clara got home, the Doctor had already gone to work, as she had anticipated. He'd been fairly meticulous in the last couple of weeks and she suspected that that wasn't entirely down to avoiding Clara, but also down to a pretty important breakthrough. However, what there was when she got in, was four pints of blue milk, sitting in the fridge, with a note attached.

_I'm really sorry. I was being selfish. I don't want you to move out. I love you xxxx_

Sometimes it's the little things that can break couples down. Clara knew that much. After all, it had been something so simple as a pint of milk that had gotten them into this argument in this place. And equally, often it's the simple things that can repair the damage down. And, seeing the milk in there, with the little message stuck to it, Clara knew that she wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

Clara and the Doctor made an extra special effort after that, both determined to try and make things work. In that vein, they decided to finally throw that long overdue flat warming party. The Ponds were coming down from York, Jack and the Doctor's work colleagues would be there, along with Tom, Ruth, Bethany, Sandrine and of course Nina. She went to buy booze herself, rather than sending the Doctor to do it and as came back with a couple of crates of beer, a few bottles of spirits and a bottle of champagne. They still had a couple of chilled bottles of wine in the fridge. The party was that Friday, the 17th August and the Doctor and Clara went to bed the night before feeling a lot better about things. They had every right to, they were arguing less, spending more time together and Clara had pulled an all-nighter and caught up on her schoolwork. Everything was looking up.

The Doctor got off work early that day and got home just as Clara was finishing up her last bit of work that she had had scheduled for the day. She looked up as she heard him enter and smiled to herself as he boiled the kettle. She didn't get up or say anything, she just waited. A minute or so later, he slipped into the bedroom, put a fresh cup of tea in her favourite mug, down beside her and leaned in to kiss her cheek. It was simple, but it was caring and it made Clara feel loved. He snaked an arm around her shoulder and she smiled as she turned her head to kiss him on the lips lightly.

"How was work?" she murmured, completely at ease in his presence.

"Rubbish," he smirked. "I missed you like crazy, you see. It wasn't the same without you. How was the home life? Did you get done everything that you needed to do?"

"Yep," she replied, turning her chair so she was closer to him and nuzzled his shoulder. "You know, we're both completely obligation free. And, we have a good few hours until our house-warming guests arrive, wouldn't you say?"

"You know," he said gutturally, pulling her off the seat and into his arms. "I think that you appear to be right, Miss Oswald. However shall we fill that time I wonder?"

Her lips just grazed his, but the action made her heart skip a beat. She took in shallow breaths as he kissed her cheek, then her jaw line, before shooting down to her neck and down to her collarbone. The Doctor trailed his kisses down to the hemline of her dressing gown, as she hadn't bothered to dress that day. She shivered, allowing him to remove the gown and leave her in her tank top and skimpy bed shorts. Her hands went to his shoulders and gently, she slipped off his jacket, before taking her hands up to his neck to undo his bow tie. His hand was just tracing the ends of her tank top, playing with the areas where it touched against her skin. His hands were warm to the touch, as his fingers worked their way lower, until they were just skimming the top of her breast. She shuddered at that. He smiled wickedly at her and allowed his fingers to go even lower. Her hands were on his shirt. They were staring into each other's eyes and she could see the glint in them.

Clara undid his shirt, one button at a time, her nails just scraping his skin on the way down to the next button every time, until his shirt was completely undone and her hands were splayed across his chest. She glanced a finger over his nipple and he returned the favour, Clara feeling her stomach unhinge at the feel of his nail just flicking her. She caught her breath and his smile grew at that. She leaned up to kiss him again and their lips met, just for a moment, and then they were apart again. She kissed his neck and then pressed her head into his shoulder, just letting rest there for a moment as she almost fell into him, letting him envelop her completely.

They stayed, stood there in complete silence, with only the thud of his heartbeat in Clara's ears, for a couple of minutes, and then she removed her head from his shoulder. She raised her hands and swept off his shirt in a single motion, staring back at his face, which was electrified. His hand slipped from her breast, moving lower, to pull her tank top over her head. Then his hand rested on her chest and hers rested on his. They leaned in close and now they were kissing again and his tongue was in her mouth, just slowly exploring, making its way around as if it was the first time. She responded in kind, pressing his tongue back playfully, her one hand arching around him to rest on his back, the other just sliding beneath his waistband so that her hand could toy with him, her nails just brushing his hard member, which she felt jerk under her touch. He gasped and she gently pinched the top of him, which induced another gasp. His own hand was on her shorts, which barely covered her and he pushed them down slightly. Clara kicked them off and pressed herself against him.

He couldn't undo his trousers quick enough and then he was inside her. She moaned a little as he pressed himself slowly into her. Then she leaned closer in to him, so he was further in and they were kissing gently. Clara raked her nails down his back and he gripped at her waist, ensuring that each hip movement maximised its potential, deriving the most pleasure for the pair of them. Clara breathed heavily as he fell back and she went with him, collapsing onto the bed, still intertwined, still connected.

Clara had never felt pleasure like it, her entire world being reinvented, despite the soft, slow rhythm. It didn't feel panicked or angry. It just felt right, intimate. It felt like an excruciating cliché, but he was making love to her, he wasn't just having sex with her. She let out soft moans, but nothing louder than that. She didn't just feel as though she was splitting apart, she also felt whole. It was if there had been something missing, something she hadn't even realised she'd been missing. Clara felt completely at ease, so contended and yet at the same time, she could barely think straight, so great were the waves of bliss that crashed over her.

It seemed to both last an eternity, and be over far too quickly. The Doctor came inside her and they stayed connected, neither one of them willing to extricate themselves from the other. Other than the occasionally muttering of each other's names, neither of them said a word as they lay there in peace and quiet, until the Doctor groaned loudly and Clara smiled slightly at him.

"What is it?" she asked softly and he snapped his eyes in the direction of the clock. Clara followed his gaze. They only had about an hour left until guests started arriving. Her head fell and she bit her lip. "I suppose we'd better shower then." She found herself smirking.

"I suppose we better had," the Doctor admitted. He too was smiling, though his was one of mischief. She leaned in to kiss him and then he finally removed himself from her, one final moment of ecstasy rocking her, like a shot of whiskey. As he stood, moving slowly in the direction of the bathroom, she caught up, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head into the back of his shoulder blade as she felt his abs. She could feel his facial muscles twisting into a smile as she pressed a light kiss into his back. She was breathing heavily and she could once again hear the thudding of his heart, and tried to time her breathing to match it.

"I love you," she breathed. She felt more twitching at that and he sneaked a look over his shoulder, rotating slightly so he could kiss the top of her head. "So much."

"I love you too Clara," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "So very much."

They showered together, taking their time and savouring the feel of the hot water crashing over their heads and the feel of each other's bodies in the heat. She kissed him and he kissed her and it all felt perfect. As they eventually crashed out of the shower, giggling like some of kids that Clara taught, they had only half an hour or so to get ready, which was hampered by their reluctance to let go of the other. They ended up dressing each other, the Doctor wearing his suave beige tweed and his favourite bow tie, the one Clara had bought him. She was wearing a short red dress, her hair pulled up into barrelled curls, which sat in a mess on top of her head. His breath had hitched in his throat at the sight of her, making her blush.

Clara was still doing her makeup when Amy and Rory arrived, the first of the guests and probably the only ones staying the night. After hugs were exchanged, the Doctor poured glasses of wine and then he and Rory slipped into chat, leaving Amy and Clara to talk, something that reeked of deliberation. Clara caught the Doctor's eye and she could have sworn that he winked at her.

"So Amy," Clara said cheerfully, letting the wine and the euphoria of her evening thus far keep her relaxed. "How's the writing going?"

"Good thanks," Amy replied, seemingly relieved to be able to dive straight into a topic of conversation that she loved, which would hopefully hold off the potentially awkward element to the conversation. "I mean, I just got published in Vogue, which is pretty epic, don't you think?"

"Vogue?!" Clara's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow that really is impressive! Well done!"

"Thanks," Amy went red and hid behind her hair slightly. "I mean, it's just one small piece, but who knows, it could be the start of my way to moving up the fashion world, fingers crossed!" She was bubbling, all nerves and excitement and she was drinking her wine faster than anyone at the table. "What about you? What's new in the teaching world?"

"Oh," Clara shrugged. "Well there's a head of department spot opening up in September, and I've applied for that." She heard the Doctor choke on his wine and winced as she realised that that was something she had been deliberately neglecting to tell him. She hadn't wanted him to get his hopes up, in case she didn't get it. "My final interview is next week," she finished meekly. The Doctor was staring at her.

"Well good for you!" Amy said with a smile. "Do you reckon you've got a good shot at it?"

"Well I would have applied even if I didn't," Clara replied honestly. "I've been there a few years and I want to improve my stock. But the previous department head loved me and passed on her highest recommendations to the committee. It all depends if they want to keep it in-house. If they do, I've got a great shot, but if they choose to bring in someone more experienced from elsewhere…" She could feel the Doctor's eyes burning into her skull. "I'm really nervous, but everything's been going great at the school, so fingers crossed for the interview."

"I'm sure you'll nail it!" Amy stated enthusiastically, nudging her shoulder in a friendly gesture that Clara still wasn't entirely certain about. Amy turned to the Doctor. "Won't she Doctor?"

There was something new in his eyes now. Pride, mixed with a burning desire and there was more than a small glint as he said: "She will be absolutely incredible."

* * *

The rest of the party passed without a hitch and it wasn't until after everyone else had gone home and the Ponds had settled into the spare room that the Doctor got a chance to talk with Clara alone, as they were cleaning up glasses, him stone cold sober, her slightly tipsy. She was trying to avoid his eye but whenever she found it, she only saw that same mix of joy and admiration in them. He eventually snaked an arm around her waist to pull her in close to him and then he murmured: "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to keep it a secret until I knew if I was going to make it," Clara admitted honestly. "I didn't want you to look at me the way you're looking at me now, full of respect and pride, and then for me to bottle it and for you to be disappointed in me."

He pulled her in a deep hug, not saying anything but not needing to. She knew what the hug meant. That he would never be disappointed in her and that would be proud regardless of if she got the job. It meant that he was there for her, whatever happened and it meant that he would do everything he could to support her, to help her secure the job. All this and more, transferred through skin contact and he kissed the top of her head for a bonus. She felt her cheeks burning.

And he kept his unspoken promise. The next few days he was all over her, helping her practice, firing questions at her when she least expected it, probing her, keeping her on edge. She was grateful for it, as it made her feel more and more prepared for her interview every day. When the day of the interview rolled around, the Doctor made her breakfast in bed and she devoured it, taking longer than usual in the shower and over her hair and makeup, obsessing over every detail, desperate to make every detail perfect. She knew it was down to her and two other candidates, but she didn't know where she stood. She went over her plan one last time and then walked in her bright summer sunshine to the school.

The interview was tougher than she'd expected, but she knew one of the judges personally and one of the others knew her, just not well. The third was a governor she'd never met, a kindly man who asked some of the most probing questions. Clara managed to avoid getting flustered and came out of the interview with her head held high. If nothing else, she could say she had done her best. She'd find out if she got the job before term started, which meant late August, early September.

She was just heading out of the school when she saw a familiar face, one that made her veins turn to ice and her skin crawl. Mary. What did she want? Clara tried to walk right past the Doctor's mother, but she reached out and grabbed Clara, who slapped her arm away in protest.

"What do you want?" Clara snapped.

"To help you dear!" Mary smiled wickedly. "After all, I hear you're after a job…"

"You stay out of that!" Clara's heart had sunk. She wanted that job so much, all the more now she knew she had a real shot at getting it. More importantly, she wanted to see if she could get the job. Having to spend the rest of her life, knowing that Mary had messed it up, knowing she'd never know if she was good enough… "You stay the hell out of that."

"Oh believe me," she sneered. "I will, I have no power over your trampy local school. I just came to offer you something better. A Deputy Head spot." Clara's eyes widened. She knew what the catch would be of course. "In New York. I have some sway with a few governors, they owe me a string of favours that I can pull to get you the job. It's a cushy little school, no little shits there, I can promise you that."

"Of course," she snarled. "A win-win for you. Even if I can persuade the Doctor to uproot his entire life for me, all of a sudden, I'm entirely under your control. I guess if he comes with me, I don't get the job?" Mary nodded. "Forget it," Clara said calmly. "I wouldn't take the job, even if it didn't mean losing the Doctor. I don't want a job based on nepotism, I want to earn it. But as it is, I'm not willing to sacrifice the Doctor for a career leg-up anyway. And the fact you thought for a moment that I would shows you know even less about your son than I thought, which believe me is impressive. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going home to my boyfriend. Don't even think about bothering us again."

And with that, she barged past Mary and smiled to herself. She had done herself and her mother proud today.


	10. September

***Hey guys. Once again, apologies for the lateness, I've been off the ball again today, literally just finished it. Likewise, apologies for any spelling and grammatical errors, I've not had time to read it over. This is a slightly shorter chapter, just over 4000 and it's also a quieter chapter. Not a lot going on, just some cute Whouffle moments. I hope you like it, please let me know what you guys think of it. As ever, thanks so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited. TPD***

* * *

Clara had been a bundle of nerves since her interview and was expecting a letter through the post any day. August had passed but there was still no word. The Doctor insisted that it meant nothing, that she'd get a letter any day, telling her if she got it. Although he always he replaced the word "if" with "that". Clara was a lot less certain than him. Or rather, than he claimed to be, as she strongly suspected he'd tell her that she'd get the job, even if she'd fucked her interview, which thankfully she hadn't. She didn't know what to say or do; she just wanted to hear from the school. It was Clara who collected the post the morning it arrived, the 2nd, and she spied the letter instantly. It had her school's seal and her breathing had become panicked, her mind had turned to dust and her fingers had trembled. She finally summoned up the courage to open up the letter and skim read the contents. Oh.

"DOCTOR!" she yelled at the top of her voice. She heard him crashing around and stumbling to the top of the stairs that led down to the front door. For a split second, she thought he was going to come crashing down them, killing himself and injuring her in the process. She was starting to question the logic of this specific flat, with such a dangerous staircase, but he was yet to fall down it, although he'd given her a scare more than once.

"Clara!" he yelled. "What is it? Is it the job? Did you get it?"

She looked up at him with big eyes. She was smiling. "You are now looking at the new Head of English for Coal Hill School," she purred and the Doctor erupted. He flew down the stairs, almost pinning her against the door as they embraced. "They said that I was by far the best internal candidate, especially with Prof Reader's rec and then they considered one or two candidates that were external, but my interviews persuaded them I was more than worthy of the position. I can't believe it!" she squealed. "I did it!"

He eventually relieved the crushing pressure that he had been exerting on her lungs and she giggled as she wrapped her arms around him. He kissed the top of her head, unable to wipe the smile of his face.

"I'm so proud of you," he murmured. She flushed at that. "Well, this calls for a celebration! You and me, dinner tonight at Titalia! I'm not taking no for an answer!" Clara didn't think her smile could have got wider, but somehow she achieved that feat. She couldn't wait. She quickly called Nina and gushed to her best friend, the way that she had gushed to the Doctor. She needed to go into school the next day to get a proper briefing and then she started properly the following week. She was both extremely excited and crazily nervous. She was also worried she might have to drop a class or two to accommodate her new responsibilities. She froze at the thought that followed that. That might even be completely up to her. That was a terrifying thought; she would be running the show. She had signed up for it, but it was still a thought that she didn't relish. And did relish, nevertheless.

Clara was still living off the high, the euphoria of getting the job, the insanity of what that meant for her, as they sat down to dinner in her favourite restaurant, for the second time in just over a month. She would claim he was spoiling her, but she had earned this. A new job, a pay hike, things were looking up for Clara Oswald. As usual, he fumbled over the menu and she rolled her eyes.

"You're definitely pretending," she informed him as she told him for the third time what the food was. "I know you are, I can see it written all over that stupid, childish face of yours." He looked at her innocently, his big eyes wide, like those of a puppy dog. She snorted at him and his face fell slightly. "Just order!" she implored him, the smile never leaving her face.

So he did. Eventually. The waiter and Clara shared a look of pure exasperation and she mouthed sorry, but they got there in the end. He at least had the decency to look sheepish about the whole thing, though she knew that he was secretly playing games with her. She didn't know why he was pretending to be so bad at reading the menus, but it seemed to amuse him vastly and it did amuse her, though she would never ever tell him that. He winked at her from across the table and she threatened to stab him with her fork. He rolled his eyes at that, calling her bluff.

Dinner that evening was exactly what Clara needed to relax her, to remove the supercharged emotions, most of them positive, that were running through her body. She was wired up like a Duracell bunny and must have looked as hyper as she felt. She'd backcombed her hair, so it was wild, her curls flying off in all directions and she couldn't stop grinning like a maniac all night.

She'd only just managed to calm down when he got her home and then he managed to charge her right back up again. The way he touched her, the way he undressed her, the way he kissed her. They did it on the kitchen table and then in the main bathroom. Their en-suite only had a shower, and they'd really wanted to have sex in the bath tub, without having a bath. This both made her more elated than before and also wore her out immensely. She ended up crashing in bed, him lying beside her, them both exhausted.

"I can't believe it's taken us this long to christen the bath tub," he growled.

"I can't believe we christened the kitchen table!" Clara laughed breathlessly. "I thought we agreed that we weren't going to do that! It's your fault, you can wipe your fucking juices off of it!" He looked indignant. "You're the one who pushed me over onto it!" He didn't protest.

So Clara woke up to the sounds of him scrubbing the table. She smirked at that and rolled over, utilising the whole of the bed. It was nice to have a double to herself, she rarely got that chance. She stayed in bed for another half hour before he popped his head in the bedroom.

"You need to be getting up in five minutes or so honey!" he said gently as she rolled over onto her belly and buried her head in the pillow. "Clara!" he added in a sing song voice.

"Go awayyyy!" she whined. "I'm going to get up, I've set my alarm!" She went back to hugging the pillow, desperately trying to scrounge a few more minutes sleep before her alarm crashed her back to reality, screaming at her as she flailed for it. The Doctor threw a cushion from off the sofa at her.

"Get up Clara!" he said sternly. She groaned and flopped, hitting the floor with a deafening thud. He stuck his head in but didn't comment. He was used to her morning antics. Clara was not a morning person. She laboured in the shower, to the point where he was banging on the door to get her to come out. He made her breakfast, which was another nice touch she appreciated, tucking into her bacon sarnie and savouring every bite, sipping her fresh mug of tea. If only all mornings could be this acceptable. Oh wait, she realised. They could be. She was living with him now, she had an unforeseen number of mornings like this one, with him doing the best he could to make her alert.

"Did you add something to my tea?" she enquired, swirling it gently and testing her tongue.

"Just a hint of cinnamon," he replied with a warm smile. "Problem?"

"No," Clara didn't even need to think about it. "It works. It's delicious." He smirked at that.

"Of course it is," he purred. "Now finish your breakfast, you've got a big day ahead of you!"

"You're my boyfriend," she reminded him. "Not my dad. Stop being weird."

"What caring?" he chuckled. "Are you not used to having someone look after you all the time Clara?" He said it sarcastically but the way his face shifted, he realised the same thing she was realising. That no. She wasn't. With Danny, she'd always be the one making the extra little bit of effort, forcing him to come out dancing, or making him breakfast. This was the first relationship she'd been in where she actually felt cared about. She looked at him and he gave her his best, winning smile. She leaned across to kiss him, almost knocking her tea over with her elbow as their lips brushed.

"Thank you," she spoke in an undertone. He shrugged his shoulders and returned her kiss.

"It was my pleasure," he informed her. "Now then, where are you at time wise?"

She was running late. That proved to be a theme for Clara, although she managed, through nothing short of a miracle and him giving her a lift into school, to make it to every single of her string of meetings and talks on time. The day itself wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the constant feeling of stress pressing down on her. She wasn't sure that she was ready for this job, despite the Doctor's reassurances, or the kind words of her colleagues and bosses. The people who hired her, her previous HoD, they all believed in Clara, so why couldn't she?

Her first day seemed to settle her nerves a touch, once she'd finished all the running around and reflected back on what she'd actually achieved. She was still a tad nervous to be returning to action the following week and picking up her new duties on top of it. Still, the deputy head, a lovely woman by the name of Doris, had offered her services to Clara, should she need a hand. There was no pressure; everyone knew that she was new to the job and slightly short of experience. But she was the best teacher the department had and she was full of good ideas and enthusiasm. Clara had always been good at organisation, it was always just about keeping her rampant jitters in check.

She had a long hot bath, which made her feel a hell of a lot better. The Doctor ordered takeaway from the local chippy. It was cheap, it was greasy, and it was exactly what she needed. She didn't even question how he knew these things. He was just telepathic. It was like that for the next couple of days, as the Doctor seemed to know exactly what Clara needed and when she needed it.

"Your new experiment," she asked him as she looked at him suspiciously when he brought her a cuppa, almost the exact moment she ran out. "It's not security cameras or mind-reading is it?" He chuckled at that and didn't dignify it with a response.

Then school started again and Clara found herself having to settle into a whole new routine. She was working later than before, as she had expected, because she didn't want to have to take her work home with her. That meant staying super late after work, crashing in knackered and having the Doctor take care of her.

She hated feeling like a burden to him, but she needed a couple of weeks to get a grip on things. They'd been together eight months, but their relationship was still taking on new dynamics. They'd never lived together whilst they were both working, so it meant that they had gone from spending a lot of time together to substantially less. It didn't bother Clara too much, they still had evenings and weekends, but the evenings were calm, quiet. She rarely was up for anything beyond cuddling on the sofa. And that, she supposed was fine. Their relationship didn't need flare. It didn't require the kind of explosive behaviour that others did. It was two individuals, who cared about each other very much and were beyond comfortable in each other's company.

Weekends were a little more exciting at least. They often went out for dinner and Clara took to trying to see Nina whenever she could. Things at work had shifted now that she was Head of Department. She had less time to hang around with the others, less chances to go out drinking with them. She had to be the mature one, the one who asked them all to stop acting certain ways. One day in mid-September, she had to talk to Tom, had to scold Tom. She hated that. But he was behind and he needed a kick up the backside. Her predecessor would have done it, so Clara did it. She hated herself for it and she tried to convince herself that it meant nothing. But she could see in his eyes, he was slightly shocked and maybe even disappointed.

Clara didn't feel different now that she had a new job. But nevertheless, things were different, out of her control. There was nothing that she could do to wrestle them back under her control and she just had to accept that. She had more disposable income and had started saving. She didn't know where her future with the Doctor lay, but she was already thinking about a house, about kids. It was only natural. He was into his 30s and she was nearly 28. In a couple of years, they'd be thinking about the next few steps. Marriage, kids. A couple of years was a long time, but for Clara, it made sense. He felt different. He felt like the kind of guy who was in it for the long haul.

She wondered where he'd be now, if River Song hadn't died. He hadn't said anything about the two of them planning for a family, but he had been her age when River had been killed and River had been the other side of 30. They must have at least talked about it, having been married for six or seven years at that point. She was tempted to ask him. She and Danny had never talked about having kids. But then, they'd been younger, less involved and he'd not even proposed. She did wonder if he had ever been going to, but then she doubted it. He'd wanted out after all. But the Doctor hadn't broken up with River. They'd been separated by something else. Clara shivered at the thought of it.

She had a lot of time to think, sat alone in her new office, in the early hours of the evening when most of the school had gone home and only a few busy department heads and key faculty members had stayed behind. She thought about the Doctor and Danny and River and all of that nonsense. Danny was underneath her now, literally. She controlled his schedule and whilst she couldn't deliberately be a dick to him, wherever she could she made his life more difficult. Giving her a harder set, knowing which classes contained the little shits and shifting them on to him. Seeing how stressed he was gave her a grim sort of pleasure and one that she took no pride in. It was a shame he was such a damned good teacher, she couldn't call him up on shit because he didn't make many errors.

One evening in September, Clara trudged home to see the Doctor deep in thought, reading a letter. She frowned and crossed the room to peck his cheek. He smiled up at her and kissed her back, putting a hand onto her shoulder blade. The contact buzzed Clara, like she was tingling when he touched her. But she was used to it.

"What're you reading?" she asked gently, slipping down onto the arm of the chair he was in. He scooted up a bit, making a little more space for her and when she recognised the name at the bottom of the letter, she gripped his shoulder tightly.

"A letter from my mother," he informed her. "But you already got that." She nodded. "She wants to tell me she's disowning me. Of sorts. She has apparently given up trying to police my life, though she used the phrase 'guide my choices'. She no longer cares what happens to me as it is clear I have been corrupted beyond help. She wishes dad was still alive to see the wretch I have become and she's going back to America. She didn't mention inheritance but frankly I doubt she can strike me out the will, the sad old bitch hasn't got anyone else to give her money to. Not that I care either way, I've managed just fine without her money up until now."

There was something in his tone. Bitterness and resentment, as she would have expected. Relief, which she certainly didn't blame him for. Sadness? That was understandable. But something else, something she couldn't quite pick out. She examined his face. There was nothing written there that could help her.

"What is it?" she murmured.

"I just…" he sighed. "I can't believe she's giving up on me. I mean, I'm glad she's gone, really I am, but…" He was trying not to cry, she realised. She slipped down onto his lap, kissed his jaw and then snuggled into him. "She's my mother," he said, he didn't need to say more. "I can't believe that my own mother, the woman who…I mean she's always been cruel and a bitch but…but I thought she loved me."

"She does love you," Clara whispered, but she wasn't sure she could believe her own words. Not that it mattered if he believed them, but that in itself was a stretch. "Doctor, she does love you, she just doesn't know how to love you. Doesn't know what love means, how to react to it. That doesn't mean that she doesn't want what's best for you…even if she doesn't have the faintest idea that what she thinks is what's best for you isn't."

"But she obviously doesn't," he replied bluntly and her eyes snapped to his. "Otherwise…" he shook his head. "Ignore me Clara. This is good news. For both of us. Great news. We should be celebrating, not moping. I'll get a wine bottle out."

She pressed a hand to his chest, keeping him in position. She leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth before climbing off him, keeping her hand firmly against his shirt. He watched her all the way up and she gave him a small, almost apologetic smile.

"Let me," she said gently. She didn't know why she was indulging him at all, but she poured two small glasses, no more than half full. She wasn't going to let him have any more. She had come to terms with his alcohol problems, and so had he, long ago, but that didn't mean she couldn't occasionally play it cautiously, especially when he was an emotional can of worms. She returned to him and he had moved to the comfier sofa, which she smiled at, setting the glasses down on the table in front of them and curling up into his arms.

"Thanks," he muttered. "I don't know what I'd do without you Clara."

"Struggle," she teased. "I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you and don't you forget it!" She was joking of course and it was worth it to see the little smile on his face as he looked down at her.

"I won't," he promised and whilst she had been joking, he was horribly sincere. Clara blushed and rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. She heard him gulping on his wine above her and casually opened one eye to see him finish the glass and put it down. She reached for her own glass and sipped her own drink, trying not to think about the Doctor and his drinking. She could almost hear him rolling his eyes.

"You know you don't need to worry about me," his voice was soft, but the words said more than he intended them to. He didn't want her to worry about him, she knew that, but it was also reflecting back that same insecurity. That he hated that she still recognised a flaw in him. A flaw that wasn't present in her.

"I know," Clara answered tenderly, cuddling closer to him. "But I will. Because I love you."

She hadn't meant for that to sound, or feel defiant, but that's how it was. It was her emphatically telling him that she was not going to pretend he didn't have a problem, but that she was here with him because of it, not despite it. It was a part of him and she loved every part of him, even the parts that he didn't love about himself. That didn't mean that she didn't want to help him, it just meant that she didn't see him the way he see himself when he thought about it. It didn't lower her opinion of him in the slightest. It was something she had realised about him the day that they'd met and her feelings for him had only gone one way since that day.

"I don't deserve you," he breathed in her ear and she went crimson again.

"Probably not," she teased. "But you've got me stranger. I'm in this for the long haul." She paused. Now was as good a time as any. "You and River…" she was glad he didn't flinch. "Were you guys planning on having kids?"

"Not really," he replied. His voice wasn't betraying any lingering emotion except a hint of teasing to come. "Why, are you asking me for children Miss Oswald?" There was the teasing. She blushed but he carried on. "River wasn't really the type. I mean, I asked her about it a couple of times and she found the idea of settling down laughable. I mean I know we were married, but we weren't settled, the way you and I kind of are now. We travelled as much as we could, we both tried to do as many things as we could. It was exciting, but it was also kind of boring. We were always running from one adventure to the next, but we were never having as much fun as we should have. It wasn't what I wanted."

"If it wasn't what you wanted, why did you keep doing it?" Clara asked gently.

"Because it was what River wanted," he replied with a sigh. "And I wanted what River wanted. It was incredible. But this…this is different. This feels different. It feels right."

"I know what you mean." Clara snuggled back into his body and they lay there for a while, Clara occasionally sipping her wine and him above her, deep in thought. She could see him running about, travelling, and being clever. It suited him so well. Maybe he wasn't saying it because he felt better now, but because he was trying to convince himself that he wasn't happy with River. He was trying to focus on the negatives of the relationship so that this new one felt even better. That would be understandable and, as far as Clara was concerned, it wouldn't undermine what they had. After all, he wasn't comparing the two and even if he was, he would be comparing his feelings for her that were already pre-existing. He wasn't trying to amplify his feelings for her, they were already there.

Clara didn't consider it overconfidence; she just considered it recognition of what was in front of her. And as she went to sleep in his arms that night and every night that week and the week after it, she wondered how she'd ever been able to sleep any other way. Because it felt so perfect, so right, that she never wanted to sleep another way again.


	11. October

***Hey guys, another day, another late update that I've just this second finished so apologies for the appalling spelling and grammar. I'm really shite on the timing front and what makes it worse is I doubt I'll have much time to write on Friday, so unless I get November and December done double quick time, you'll have to wait until Monday or even Tuesday for the last chapter, which I do not want at all. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, please let me know your thoughts. A scare and a party, plus a tasty cliffhanger. What more could you ask for? As ever, thanks so much to all my readers, reviewers, followers and favouriters! TPD***

* * *

It was getting colder. Clara could feel it in the air. She had taken to wrapping up warmly on her way to and from work and it wasn't long before the Doctor once again offered to start driving her and, despite the fact that it would make him early for work, she finally gave in, accepting his help and feeling a lot better about it. It also felt nice to get a kiss in the car park before work, the last memory she had before stepping into the building was of his lips on hers and it felt warm and fuzzy in her mind.

Things at work were rapidly improving, as Clara was really beginning to get the hang of her new job and all that it entailed, as well as being able to juggle her responsibilities with her work friendships. She really felt like she was beginning to get on top of things and there was a spring in her step, a little bit of extra energy. She was feeling more confident than ever and the exhaustion that had overtaken her when she got back from work was slowly dissipating. This meant that she was in a better mood when she got home and the aftereffect on her relationship with the Doctor was only positive.

It was a sign of progress in Clara's mind and clearly it was in his too, because one day when she got back from work, he embraced her with the biggest grin on his face. He was also wearing his special bow tie. She smiled up at him and he kissed the top of her head.

"What day is it today Clara?" he asked playfully and to this she rolled her eyes.

"It's Wednesday," she replied condescendingly.

"Exactly," he winked and tapped her nose. Clara bit on her lip to stop herself laughing. "And as you know, Wednesday is our day. So, since we haven't been out for dinner in ages, I booked us a table at that little American restaurant on Craig Street. What do you think?"

"I think you already know my answer," she smiled leaning, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I'll go and get showered and changed. I have that new dress that you wanted me to try on."

His face lit up at that, as she had expected it to. She went to shower, allowing the hot water to roll off her face and down her back, turning her hair a slick, black colour, as it always did when it got wet, twisting and coiling down her back like snakes. She washed it quickly, so it smelled of strawberries and lavender, two scents that you wouldn't have thought would go together, but Clara had long ago discovered worked perfectly in tandem. She straightened it once it was dry, steam erupting from her straighteners as she tried not to burn herself. The Doctor had stepped on them bare foot once and was highly untrusting of them as a result. She didn't blame him, but that didn't make it any less funny. She wore her hair down that evening, pin straight so it sailed down her back. Her dress was emerald green, the same colour as the majority of his eyes and strapless, so it hung low, revealing a lot of skin. She could tell he liked it, because she thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. It was just a shame that they couldn't have sex that night, because she had been off for the pill for just under a week whilst she waited for a prescription change to come in and they didn't own any condoms. She was going to get her new pill in a few days' time, at the weekend.

Dinner that evening was wonderful, mainly because the Doctor was in a good mood. Whenever he was feeling subdued, it tended to have a knock on effect on Clara, as she struggled to enjoy herself knowing that he wasn't feeling his usual eccentric self. For whatever reason, his moods had been fluctuating a lot recently. She suspected that it was to do with his work, but he wouldn't say too much about it, for whatever reason. She decided not to probe too much that evening, because she didn't want to ruin the wonderful evening that they were having.

The next morning, however, it became abundantly clear, as he crashed into her classroom, just before break time and snogged her in front of her class. This earned her a lot of giggles and him the biggest glare she could muster, whilst simultaneously blushing furiously and trying not to giggle.

"What the hell was that for?" she hissed. "And alright you lot, settle down, back to work, nothing to see here."

"Is that your boyfriend Miss?" Jason, one of her students catcalled.

"Obviously!" she shot back. "But I'll have you in detention if you don't settle down and get back to work." Nobody seemed to think it was worth it. "What're you doing here?"

"Well!" he said in a low tone. "Thing is, I finally got my experiment on how lasers alter the fission changes in radioactive isotopes. Don't ask," he added hurriedly as she opened her mouth to object. "So anyway, the experiment finally worked, after like two months of exploding and singed eyebrows. Again, not a word!" he could see her winding up for the eyebrow joke on the tip of her tongue. "So the university is really impressed, yadda yadda, guess who's getting a huge grant and a pay rise?"

Clara squealed and pulled him into a hug so huge; he almost lifted her off her feet. She suddenly realised where she was and cleared her throat, smoothing out her dress and nodding at him sincerely. A huge smile crept onto her face and he winked at her.

"Come back at lunchtime," she whispered. "We can go out and celebrate. Or, you can stay another ten minutes until break and I can lock the classroom door. The closet is more comfortable than it looks."

"You always say the most romantic things."

* * *

The Doctor straightened out his jacket as he left, Clara flattening her hair nervously with one hand and pulling down her skirt with the other. She wasn't used to having sex in school, certainly not with him, though she and Danny had done it a handful of times and she had been a nervous wreck the entire time, paranoid that they would be caught and fired. Danny, being the shit that he was, never panicked at all and she was slightly grateful for that. Their chances of getting caught decreased astronomically as a result of one of them knowing what they were doing. Clara unlocked the door and then let the Doctor out. He kissed her lightly on the lips, before raising his hand into a salute and then he was walking off down the corridor. Clara slumped backwards into her seat, waiting for the bell, and trying not to look overly conspicuous, checking her reflection in her little mirror as she did so.

"Clara?"

"Yes?!" she jumped and swivelled, failing miserably to keep her composure.

"You alright?" Tom asked with a chuckle and a raised eyebrow. Clara cleared her throat and sorted herself out. "You look like I've just walked in on you in bed with the Doctor!" he laughed and Clara laughed unconvincingly.

"Sorry," she smiled. "Long day. I'm just knackered and a bit flustered. What can I help you with Tom?" She tried to keep her voice light until the pounding in her chest slowed and she listened to Tom, determined to calm herself. She felt like such a bad girl, and she wasn't sure if she felt exhilarated or nauseous. In truth, it was probably a bit of both.

Tom didn't want anything stupidly important, so she quickly answered his questions and then break was over and she allowed herself to relax. For a few minutes at least. Her next two classes before lunch were little terrors and she was thoroughly stressed before lunch all over again. There was something nagging at her, something that she had missed, something that she had forgotten. The nagging feeling stuck with her, not just until that day was over, but also for a few days after that, until Saturday rolled around and the Doctor reminded her that she needed to pick up her new pills. Then it hit her. She had had sex with him. She was supposed to have been having sex with him. It took him two separate panicked and gabbled explanations from her before he understood, but when he got it, he went pale.

"I'm sure that it'll be fine!" he said, with every single facial feature he possessed telling an entirely different story. "I mean, it's one time! Nobody gets pregnant on their first go. Like almost nobody. Although you do hear tales of one night stands, gone wrong, and the father has to spend the rest of his life..." he trailed off. "Sorry, I'm not helping am I?"

"Not in the slightest," Clara murmured. "Not even a little bit." She'd just got a new job, he'd just got a huge grant, which meant he'd be experimenting more. They'd only been going out nine months, to the day in fact. But still, nine months. They'd barely handled moving in together. How the hell would they deal with a child? He looked white as a sheet and she imagined that if she looked anything like she felt, she wouldn't be a lot better. Clara was pale at the best of times. Not only did she never see sun, having not been abroad much, but when it was sunny in England, she just went red, instead of brown. She'd tried fake tan once when she was fifteen, jeered on by Nina. Never again. She'd been bright orange for weeks.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I mean, we've got nothing to worry about right?" She shook her head. "How long until you can take a test? I mean, not that you need to take a test because everything will be fine and normal, but how long anyway? It's supposed to be a couple of weeks isn't it? So like two weeks?"

Clara didn't answer. She didn't know. She'd just had her period, so it would be another three weeks or so until she was supposed to get another one and like the Doctor, she couldn't wait that long to know. Especially because even if she wasn't pregnant, there was no guarantee that her period would come when she expected it to, and she wasn't sure that her heart could take it if it was even a few days later than it should have been.

The next couple of weeks were nerve-wracking. Clara felt ill almost all the time. What was annoying about it was that she was fairly sure that she wasn't sick because she was pregnant, but that because her stomach was churning with anxiety that prevented her eating properly and made her constantly tired and stressed. But the more tired, stressed and ill she felt, the more the little inkling of doubt that she might in fact be pregnant grew and ate away at her, which just made her more tired, stressed and ill. It was a fucking vicious cycle. She started taking pregnancy tests after a week or so, but even when they came back negative, she wasn't assuaged. She wouldn't be satisfied until she was sure that there was nothing growing inside of her.

By the end of the second week, the Doctor was convinced that she wasn't pregnant, but Clara herself was still questioning the accuracy of the tests after so little time. It wasn't until the day before Halloween when she got her period that she was finally satisfied that she wasn't pregnant. She had never been happier to see her period. Nevertheless, in retrospect, she realised that crashing out of the bathroom, screaming to the Doctor: "I'm bleeding!" at the top of her voice wasn't necessarily the smartest way to go about it, as he fell over the sofa in his rush to get to her. After that they were both bleeding, her from her pelvis and him from his nose.

Still, Clara had expected there to be some residual displeasure about the fact that she wasn't pregnant. She had anticipated that on some level, she was gutted that she wasn't having a child with the Doctor. But there wasn't. She knew that it was because she was going to have them with him some day, they just weren't ready yet, but even so, she was a little disappointed in herself for not feeling even slightly guilty that she was celebrating not being pregnant.

The Doctor hadn't said anything much beyond: "ow!", but she could sense the relief melting off of him. He had been every bit as wound up and panicked about having a child as she was and there was no signs that he felt guilty either. She didn't know what to make of that. A pregnancy scare usually revealed something deep and meaningful about a couple, but in their case, it felt like nothing more than a pregnancy scare. And Clara wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She opted for good, because she didn't want anything to derail the confidence that she had in her and the Doctor's relationship.

Halloween night fell on a Friday, which was great, as Clara could go out and get sloshed. The Doctor didn't get hammered, not since his birthday slip up, but he was still going to Nina's house party along with Clara, presumably to make sure that she didn't choke on her own vomit or something, Clara hadn't asked. Still, he could have fun, some people he knew from work would be there and he could have a glass of wine or two. Clara knew that the decent thing to do would be to hold back on the booze, but she'd not been very drunk in a long time and she wanted to indulge herself. She knew he would understand and, though she felt guilty, she had been stressed the last few weeks and needed to let her hair down and let off some steam. And in any case, Nina wouldn't let her leave sober.

It was good to see her best friend again as they chinked glasses of wine together. Clara and the Doctor had arrived early, but then she'd meant to, so that she could catch up with Nina properly before the party guests arrived. As it was Halloween, naturally the party was fancy dress. What Clara hadn't learned until about a week previous, was that the Doctor took Halloween very seriously and his fancy dress options were extensive. He had also insisted on doing a joint costume, which Clara had been slightly reluctant about, but gave in without much resistance. He had offered her a variety of choices but in the end, she had opted for the Cheshire Cat and the Mad Hatter. He'd made the costumes himself and Clara was impressed with the result, as she painted whiskers onto her face. His own costume was highly impressive, complete with wig and face paint.

Nina complimented them on their efforts, as they shared a glass of wine, Nina herself dressed as a zombie nurse. The Doctor nursed his wine, as Clara had expected him to, but hers was gone after a couple of minutes and she found her glass being rapidly topped up by Nina, who was smirking as she did so. The tone for the evening was set right there, and continued to slip more and more into alcohol, as Nina's friends arrived. Clara decided to take an hour or so off drinking duty so that she could hang with the Doctor, but he insisted that he was fine and soon enough, he was engaged with a physicist that Nina had invited, whilst Clara was dragged back to the table to do shots.

It wasn't long before Nina was snogging a gorgeous girl dressed as a tiger, that Clara knew worked in her department and Clara herself was tottering in her heels, staggering back through the crowds, looking for her Mad Hatter. She giggled hysterically as she found him and stole his hat. He watched her incredulously as Clara placed the hat on her head and pulled it down so that it covered her eyes.

"Looook! Doctor!" she tittered. "I can't see!" As if to prove the point, she stumbled forwards and almost crashed into Nina's coffee table. Her Mad Hatter stepped forwards to intervene, but she pushed the hat back up so she could see and pushed him away gently. "Nuh uh fancy pants!" she slurred. "You're not getting your hat back nosiree!" she smirked and took off, running away from him. It was a small flat and he knew it inside and out, but he chose not to chase after her and Clara crashed back into the kitchen, where Nina had HotChemistDressedAsATiger up against the fridge and took another shot with a handsome guy dressed as Buzz Lightyear. She thought that he might be flirting with her, but she wasn't sure, so she used one hand to steady herself and the other pressed against his chest to move him further away.

"You know my Mad Hatter," she said unconvincingly. "I mean my Doctor." Not right either. "I mean my boyfriend!" Nailed it. "Is just across the lounge. And he is super-hot and super strong and if he catches you flirting with me, he'll kick your arse!"

Handsome guy laughed at that and rolled his eyes, slamming another shot and walking away. Clara took another shot herself defiantly and turned to where Nina had her hand up HotChemistDressedAsATiger's skirt. She made a gagging motion and shouted: "Get a room!" to which Nina responded with a middle finger and carried on.

Clara lurched out of the kitchen and back into the hustle and bustle of the living room, where everyone was talking and drinking. She met the three blurry Doctor's three blurry eyes from across the room and grinned, crossing the room to place a kiss on his lips. He kissed her back, a deep loving kiss and she felt perfect, like she wanted to melt into his arms.

"Do you want your hat back?" she asked seductively, stumbling slightly as he held her and he chuckled at that, pulling it gently up as it had fallen again, obscuring her already fuzzy vision.

"No," he said with a smile. "You keep it love, it suits you." He was lying of course, but in her drunken state, Clara didn't care. She staggered away from him again, dragging him along behind her into the kitchen with her.

"Shots!" she screeched at the top of her lungs, ignoring what Nina was doing beside her. She grabbed two shots and thrust one in the Doctor's direction. He eyed it up suspiciously.

"Clara," he said gently. "You know I can't."

"Stop being such a fuddy duddy!" Clara pouted, downing her shot and forcing his on him. He looked at her with his big, sad eyes and Clara frowned at him. "Fine, spoilsport!" she growled and downed it herself. Mistake. Her insides churned and wretched and then she vomited all down his front. The Doctor pulled a face and Clara swore. "Serves you right!" she told him. She took another shot, as her buzz was dying and then she vomited again, this time on Nina and HotChemistDressedAsATiger. Nina screamed as sick exploded over her and she rounded on Clara. The Doctor stepped in, scooping Clara into his arms and apologising profusely to Nina. He carried her out the kitchen, but she wriggled.

"Put me down!" she yelled and then pounded on his chest to no effect. Then, she hit him right in the sweet spot and he went down, clutching his painful area as Clara giggled to herself and staggered off. Nina emerged from the kitchen, covered in Clara's sick and swearing and she realised that she was in trouble. She needed somewhere to hide out from Nina and the Doctor.

She shuffled into her old room, which felt bare and empty without her stuff littering every corner of it. She crawled under the bed and laughed at her own genius. There was no way that the Doctor and Nina would find her under here. The bedroom door crashed open and she held her breath, afraid that they would hear her if she made even the slightest of noises. She heard giggling and she frowned. That didn't sound like the Doctor, or like Nina. She felt the bed creak above her and panicked. She didn't feel sober, but her head suddenly cleared with the crashing realisation of what was happening above her. Clara wanted to crawl out but her legs weren't working properly, so she lay there, paralysed by alcohol and embarrassment.

The noises coming from above her made her feel sick. And not just metaphorically. Clara desperately wanted to hurl, the taste of vodka back in her mouth and she was no longer left with any choice. Her body seemed kick into gear and she pulled herself along the floor until she could stagger to her feet. She was on the wrong side of the bed. She pitched forwards, hoping to reach the bathroom before she was too late, but she'd already missed the boat on that one and spewed all over the couple having sex in the bed.

The screams that they made must have clued up the Doctor and Nina, because the former was already bursting into the room. He saw Clara, and made a grab for her, but she ran into him barrelling with enough momentum to send him off his feet. Clara thundered back into the lounge and Nina was shouting something, but all Clara could think was that she felt like she'd sobered up and she couldn't have that.

She managed to get back to where the shots were and downed another one. She felt her vision betray her and she saw black for just a moment. Then, someone was shouting her name and when she blinked, she was in that person's arms. She kicked and screamed and then she closed her eyes, just for a moment, and she was out in the pitch black and cold. She shivered and tried to fight it, tried to fight whoever was taking her. She shouted for the Doctor, but there was no response. She was being kidnapped, she knew it. She was bundled into the back of a car and she fought against it. She wasn't going to be captured or raped. She screamed for help, but it came out as little more than a whisper. She cried, sobbed with tears streaming down her face as she fought to open the back doors of the car and fling herself out, to freedom. They were locked and she fumbled with the locks but the child-lock was on and she was trapped.

She tried to tackle the driver, who shouted something at her and swerved. Clara fell back into the back and the driver swore and pulled to a halt. Clara thought that this was it, this was it. But she was going to fight back. As the driver opened the back door, she kicked out and ran. She didn't know where they'd stopped, only that it was unfamiliar. They stopped at the road side and she crashed into an alley between two buildings, and broke out into a grassy courtyard on the other side. She heard pounding footsteps behind her and screamed for help. Nobody came.

She lost her footing on the sodden ground and went face first into the mud. She felt something snap and her face crumple into the ground. She lay there, weeping, her blurred vision getting increasingly blacker. She rolled over and then he was on her again, her attacker and this time there was nothing she could do as she was bundled into his arms. Clara whimpered and then she was bundled back into the back of the car, with her seatbelt done up to stop her escaping. She wept for a few more moments, as her mind went number and her vision increasingly sporadic. And then, she blacked out…


	12. November

***Hey troops, standard warning applies, I've literally just finished this, so apologies for any spelling and grammar. At least I don't have to apologise for tardiness today, which gives me a great shot at finishing December before I head out tomorrow. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, I needed to mop up the events of the previous chapter and then really explore the Whouffle relationship a bit and see where they're at. Knowing what's coming in tomorrow's final chapter, I just wanted to make sure that their relationship felt like the steps taken in tomorrow's chapter felt natural and to me they do. Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter, thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited and please please let me know what you made of it. Tomorrow: the end. TPD***

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Clara woke to a bright, harsh light coming in from the window. Her head was threatening to split open, it was pounding that much. She was lying in her own bed, which was both a surprise and a relief. She was covered in mud, her clothes and face filthy and there was a badly torn Mad Hatter hat on the floor nearby. She groaned and rolled over, her bed sheets stained with mud and blood. Oh great, she'd forgotten to put in a fresh tampon before bed as well. Brilliant. Every part of her body hurt as she tried to sit up and she moaned in fresh agony. The Doctor wasn't beside her. She looked up, her eyes stinging when she opened them, begging her to close them again. He was stood by the door, arms crossed, looking at her with sympathy in his eyes, but also a flicker of annoyance dancing across his face.

"Are you okay?" was his first question and Clara shook her head, then instantly regretted it as it throbbed and she let out a rasping noise. "I'm not surprised."

"What happened?" she gasped, the noise ringing in her ears and the effort of speaking burning her throat. She felt completely and utterly wretched and to say that her memory was patchy was an understatement. All she remembered was vomit and shots.

"Let's see," his voice was teasing but she could tell that he wasn't happy. "You threw up all over me, all over Nina and her hot friend she was making out with, plus a poor couple trying to have sex. You ran around for about an hour trying to run away from me, taking shots along the way, you kicked me or punched me in the balls at least twice, and when I tried to take you home you almost caused a car crash killing both of us then attacked me and tried to run away into the streets of London, ended up in a grassy courtyard and then you fell face first into the mud. At which point I found you again and you passed out in the car on the way home." His voice had gotten progressively more irritated as the story went on, and though there was a polite smile still on his face, she could feel his anger having wafted across the room.

"Oh!" Clara managed, and then she crashed back into the bed, making a small, pained noise. "Oh God! I am so sorry!" Even those few words were an effort and she needed to vomit. At least he'd given her a handily placed bucket for her to retch into, moaned sobs leaving her.

"Hey," he said softly as she cried and threw up. She was muddy, bloody, covered in her own vomit and feeling utterly, utterly abysmal. His anger with her was fading; she could see it on his face. "It's okay. These things happen. I understand."

"You're…not…upset?" she wheezed in between heaves.

"Not really," he shrugged. "I mean don't get me wrong, I was really pissed off at the time, but I was also really scared for you. I was mainly just frustrated. And now, seeing what you've done to yourself seeing how it's affected you…how can I be angry at someone who is in so much pain, when I care about them so much? Nina however, might not share my pity."

"Oh no!" Clara muttered and then she was hurling again, crying out both in pain and frustration as her throat burned, her stomach twisted and her head thundered. She felt like her insides were falling apart and she let out a pained whimper as the Doctor put his arm around her and nuzzled her gently. "Is Nina angry?" was all she could manage.

"She was screaming blue murder when I managed to get you out," the Doctor admitted. "I can't imagine she's too pleased that you ruined her party or her clothes or her floor or her spare bedding. I've not spoken to her this morning, but I imagine she's not a terrific state either, she drank quite a bit herself."

"Any idea what happened to Nina with her hot friend?" Clara managed to string together, as it seemed her entire stomach contents were back up and she was reduced to dry retching. The Doctor pulled a stray strand of limp, sick-covered hair off Clara's face and she choked slightly. He patted her back gently as she mumbled something that was incoherent even to her. Clara didn't know what was worse, how she felt physically or the knowledge that she had ruined her friend and boyfriend's nights.

"She stormed off home before I got you out," the Doctor said quietly. Damn, he wasn't pulling any punches or sugar coating it for her, was he? "Nina was…I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Clara's voice was cracked and she could see the wince on his face. "It was my fucking fault." She was in a swirling pit of agony and self-loathing and she didn't know if the Doctor's comforting arm around her made her feel better or worse. She had at least stopped retching and her stomach had settled slightly, but the hangover headache, compared with her period pain was a lethal combination, not to mention all the bumps and scrapes she'd picked up along the way. Her right shoulder was burning and she yelped when he touched it.

"Oh shit, of course!" he muttered. "You dislocated your shoulder when you fell. I popped it back into place while you were unconscious but I imagine it still hurts like a son of a bitch." She nodded, her head spinning at the action. "You just need some painkillers, a cup of tea and a long hot bath." The fact that he hadn't already run her a bath or made her a cuppa said everything. He said he wasn't upset, but he wasn't exactly leaping to help her either. And that stung, almost as much as her entire body tearing itself apart at the seams. "I'll get right on that!"

He patted her once on the head and left her to wallow. She heard him as he dived into the en-suite and ran the hot water and then she heard the kettle go on. She sighed in pain and delved into her bedside table for some pills to pop and a tampon. She swallowed a couple of paracetamol and groaned as a couple of minutes later, the Doctor with her tea, a forced smile on his face.

"Here you go sweetheart," he said gently, at least that sounded genuine. "Your bath will be ready any minute, can I get you anything else?" There it was again, cordial, caring but lacking his usual telepathy. Either he didn't care enough to work out what she needed or was making a point by asking her. Either way, she got the message.

"No thanks," she mumbled, feeling locked to the spot. She'd not felt this humiliated, this unworthy, this shit, this…small, in such a long time. He bit on his lip, as if he wanted to say something else, but he ultimately decided against it. And Clara was kind of glad he didn't try, because she already felt bad enough without his poor attempts to make her feel better, which only served as a reminder that she'd let him down. Let herself down.

She clambered into the bath, slowly and painfully. The hot water felt like heaven against her cold, aching skin and it managed to soothe the burning sensation rocketing through her body. The only negative side effect was that now her emotional distress had overtaken her physical distress. She tried to focus all of her attention into scrubbing the mud and blood from her face, arms, hair and worst of all, her legs. All that she could think about was how badly she had fucked up.

Then she hit the next period of the hangover. The stage where she reminded herself that she'd not cost herself any money, she'd not caused any irreparable damage to herself or anyone else. The stage where she came to the realisation that the Doctor would be back to his normal self in a couple of days and Nina would forgive her, of course she would. How many times had Nina fucked shit up when she was drunk? How many times had Clara bailed her best friend out of a whole after a crazy night of drinking? It was part of growing up. It was just that Clara was getting too old to be pulling these kinds of stunts.

Then that passive relief divulged back into embarrassment as snippets of the previous night crashed back down upon her and Clara had to fight back the urge to vomit all over again. She hated trying to get mud out of her hair; her hair was already a dark brown so when flakes of mud got caught in it, it was a nightmare trying to extract all of them.

"Here," the Doctor muttered gently. "Let me help."

She hadn't even heard him come in. She'd not locked the bathroom door out of habit; they didn't exactly hide anything from each other after all. He dipped his rough hands into the bath to wet them and then he scooped shampoo onto them, smoothing grinding his hands together before running the hands threw her hair. She was reminded of when she was a child and her hair was down to her butt and her mum was washing it for her. She caught his eyes and they had their warm twinkle back. She didn't know why, but she was grateful.

"Thank you," she whispered, removing a hand from the steaming water to touch his arm lightly. "I'm really sorry." She knew she'd already said it, but it needed to be reiterated.

"I know," he replied softly. He leaned forwards and kissed her forehead. The simple action made her feel infinitely better. "I'm here for you Clara. This is what I signed on for. I'm just returning the favour."

The fact that after almost ten months, he still found new ways to make her feel well and truly loved was what got her. It made her tear up slightly and he frowned, his eyes full of concern. And that was enough to set Clara off. She didn't like crying, as a general rule, it accomplished nothing. But she wanted to cry. Because she didn't know what she had done to deserve a man like the Doctor. A man who was kind. And caring. And twice the person that she could ever be. She smiled at him through her tears and he smiled back. And just for a moment, all of her anguish and searing pain just melted away.

* * *

As Clara might well have suspected, it was days before she could get Nina to come around and even talk to her. She called her several times, but it was almost a week before Nina picked up and even then, all she got was a mumbled: 'fuck off!' before her friend hung up the phone. Clara tried going over there to apologise but Nina had shut the door in her face. She knew how this would go down. Nina would sulk for a while; probably a couple of weeks and then everything would be okay. That didn't mean it hurt any less.

The Doctor was playing Mr Supportive, as ever, but it felt hollow, knowing that he was the only person who had a right to be as angry as Nina was. It wasn't even anger; Clara knew that, just frustration and disappointment. Nina was royally pissed off, but she didn't want to directly confront Clara because she knew her friend would be suffering enough and that there was nothing that Nina could say that Clara didn't already know. So, as a result, she just stayed away from Clara, didn't allow herself to erupt on her friend who was already beating herself up and Nina would continue in that vein until she was no longer pissed off. That was the way that it worked. And Clara was glad if she was honest with herself. She'd rather have two weeks of a non-communicative Nina than have her best friend scream at her. After all, if she didn't know that Nina was pissed off at her, nothing would be overly unusual about them going two weeks or so without seeing each other, it would hardly be the end of the world.

Nina called Clara a few days before her birthday. Clara had been wondering if she would, because she knew that there was every chance that Nina would be cool by then, but also that if Nina had wanted to, she would stretch the silent treatment beyond that period, and Clara wouldn't have heard a peep from her friend until after her birthday. Nina's call was warm and chatty, but Clara was fairly sure that she still wasn't 100% forgiven and she'd need to jump through a few hoops yet. Nevertheless, Nina had posted Clara her birthday present and it would hopefully arrive before the big day.

Clara had been hoping to see Nina on her birthday, but it turned out that her best friend had been conspiring with her boyfriend to arrange a weekend trip away. Clara was torn between excitement and apprehension as she finished work late Friday afternoon and he picked her up, driving her straight to the airport with everything that she would need.

"Where are we going?" Clara asked for what seemed like the millionth time.

"I'll tell you when we get to the airport!" he replied for what seemed like the millionth time.

"We're like a ten minute drive away from the airport!" she whined.

"Then surely you have the patience to wait another ten minutes," he shot back, rolling his eyes with a smug grin on his face. Clara hated it when he got patronising on her but sat back in the passenger seat anyway, grumbling under her breath, his smile only widening as she did so.

The drive to the airport was a short one, but Clara was on edge the entire time and she couldn't help but ask him all the way there exactly where they were going. He didn't budge an inch, not even giving her the tiniest hints as she tried different subtle tactics, all of them failing to slip past his iron-tight defences. They parked up in the car park and the Doctor lugged the suitcases out of the back of the car and handed Clara hers as they strolled towards the gates.

"So where are we going?"

"We're not in the airport yet Clara."

"We're in the airport car park! Surely that counts!"

"Nope."

"I hate you."

"So you keep saying," he chuckled. "But you won't be saying it when you see where we're headed Oswald. In fact, you'll be ecstatic." She wanted to press him for details, but they were finally stepping into the airport and walking up to the check-in desk. "Rome," he whispered finally and she squealed, throwing her arms around him. "We're going to Rome."

Clara could barely contain her excitement as they checked in. They wouldn't have time to eat when they got to Italy, as it would be nearing midnight by the time that they had landed, got out the airport and checked into their hotel, so they had food at a Burger King in the airport, which to Clara, was every bit as perfect as dinner in some fancy Italian hotel. They had plenty of time for that over the next couple of days. She ordered a double whopper and devoured it as the Doctor ate his chicken burger. Then, no sooner had they finished, than their flight was being called and they were boarding.

The flight itself was slightly longer than the one to Berlin, which meant that Clara just about had enough time to finish the Avengers film, which she watched as the Doctor slept on her arm. He always slept on planes apparently, he didn't know why. But before she knew it, they were touching down and he grunted as she shook him awake, kissing him softly before they were standing and departing, entering the cold Italian night.

Their hotel was slightly more upmarket than in Berlin, but Clara wasn't surprised. They were both earning more money and this was, in his mind anyway, a much bigger event. Clara had to admit, she was starting to feel a bit old; she would be 28 in just over 24 hours. The hotel bed was bigger and fluffier and the furnishings were more luxurious. The TV was bigger, as she pointed out to the Doctor, who had chuckled as he examined the mini-bar. Clara hated mini-bars. They tempted you with treats that were so ridiculously overpriced, especially when you compared them to the prices of the same treats in the shop literally across the road. She didn't go so far as to ban him from utilising it, but she did shoot him a dark look when he offered her a drink.

She slept soundly, curled up to the Doctor, never feeling more comfortable than when she was in his arms. He knew exactly how to hold her, which places to slot his various body parts to maximise her comfort, without her having to say anything. Their sleeping position wasn't static either. It was fluid, with both their bodies constantly subconsciously shifting, finding the best position without words needing to be said. It was just one of the little things that had Clara convinced that they were made for each other, although that was another thought she didn't vocalise.

She woke up moulded into him like they were two parts of a jigsaw. It felt good, so good that she didn't want to move. They ordered room service and ate breakfast in bed, sipping tea as they ate. They ended up sleeping together before they headed out into the city that morning and then they showered together as well, the heat of his body detracting slightly from the boiling water bucketing over her head, but Clara didn't care one jot.

Rome itself was a little more idyllic than Berlin, but by no means less interesting. Just as Berlin had all its little nooks and crannies, its hidey-holes and the little things that made it simply ooze history, Rome was no different. Clara found interesting little titbits wherever they went and she was disappointed that Saturday was the only day that they really had to explore the city. They were flying home Sunday evening and she knew that they would inevitably lie in and that they were going out for a big lunch for her birthday.

Saturday raced by at an alarming rate, as they spent most of the day exploring the city. The Doctor had obviously never been to Rome before, as he was not the fountain of knowledge that he had been in Berlin and he also reverted back to his pathetic attempts to speak Italian, which were frankly embarrassing for all concerned, but nevertheless Clara found amusing, even as waiters and tour guides gave him evil eyes. There was so much to see, so much to do and it was almost 8pm before they eventually gave up trying and went to dinner. Clara was exhausted by this point, as it felt like they'd walked around the entire city, although she knew that that wasn't the case. She slumped into her chair and prepared herself for what would inevitably be another evening of the Doctor trying and failing to order in Italian. So it was a huge shock to Clara when he ordered their food in fluent Italian.

"You bastard!" she squeaked. "I knew you were pretending all this time!"

He shrugged. "It was funny once, so I just thought I'd keep doing it, especially as you found it so bloody endearing!" They were both trying and failing miserably to keep a straight face, and ended up slipping into fits of giggles.

The food was every bit as delicious as Clara had expected and it made her feel full and bloated as she managed to scrape every last bite of dessert out of her bowl. She fell back in her chair, groaning in pain at her belly which was crying out in pain at her for punishing it so, but her taste buds agreed that it was worth it.

After dinner, they went back to the hotel and curled up, Clara completely and utterly at ease and at home in his arms. When he kissed her, it felt like she was breaking apart, as she was putty in his hands, her emotions jacked up to a thousand as his hands trailed down her side and her back. Every piece of contact between them heightened her senses, made her shudder and gasp and groan. When he slipped a finger in, she felt her whole world shatter, as if she couldn't possibly feel more alive than she did in that moment. And then they made love and she discovered the true definition of pleasure.

As she lay in his arms, frantically panting, trying to wrestle some control back over her own body, she could feel him smiling into the top of her head as she nuzzled his bare chest. This was it; this was what she had waited her entire life for. She fell asleep like that, knowing that if she didn't wake up in the morning, it wouldn't matter, because nothing could top that night. She of course, was wrong.

She woke up still in his arms. He hadn't moved a muscle; he was just staring lovingly down at her, like she was the most precious thing in the entire world. He kissed the top of her head and she gave him a small smile, to which he squeezed her slightly, lovingly.

"Happy birthday Clara," he murmured.

"Thanks," she whispered. "What did you have planned?"

"Well," he smiled playfully. "I was thinking we could start right here…"

Half an hour of snuggling later, they had a nice long, hot bath in the bathroom and then as Clara towelled herself dry, he produced a small box and handed it to her. She bit her lip playfully as she accepted it and opened the box, his eyes never leaving her face. Her eyes widened. It was the most gorgeous pair of diamond earrings she'd ever seen, with a small ruby dangling from each one. She opened her mouth but no words came out, she didn't know what to say. Then, he had another box in his hands and she shook her head.

"Not more!" she breathed as she took the box from him. This one was longer and thinner and she knew it was a necklace before she opened it, but that didn't stop her breath from hitching in her throat and her eyes from tearing up. The necklace matched the earrings, white gold with small rubies dotted in amongst it.

"More," he replied in an undertone and she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a long, passionate kiss. She let out a soft moan into him and he smiled as they kissed. "Because I love you Clara Oswald. And I needed to show you how much you mean to me."

She didn't know how to respond, either with her words or her actions, so she just stood there, holding him, hoping that the sheer fact that she was holding him would be enough for her to translate her raw emotion into some kind of coherent thoughts. Words like: 'I love you' wouldn't be sufficient to explain how she felt in that moment. But she could sense that he felt it too. They just stood there for a while, holding each other, swaying slightly, occasionally kissing softly. Clara didn't know how long they were like that, but before she knew it, the Doctor was letting her go and smiling.

"We have lunch reservations," he murmured.

"Fuck the lunch reservations," Clara shot back playfully but he merely rolled his eyes. She knew that she was being silly and the growl of her stomach told her that she wanted lunch, but she wanted more just to stand in his arms. She nuzzled his shoulder but he put a hand to hold her off.

"If we start cuddling again, we'll never stop," he laughed and she smiled at that. "You need to get dressed." Clara pouted and let her towel slip to the floor, trying to weaken his defences. To his credit, he kept his eyes firmly on her face, his smile holding as he leaned in and kissed her once, on the mouth and then whispered in her ear: "Put some clothes on."

Clara obliged eventually, throwing on a lovely long, white dress with a matching cardigan and tights. It was still the middle of November, Italy or not, so she made sure she was warm enough as she tried on her new earrings and necklace, squealing loudly as she caught her reflection with them on.

"Holy fuckballs they're gorgeous!" she said in a very high pitched voice. She could almost see the smug look on the Doctor's face, even though he was in the main room and her the bathroom. "Not a word."

Thankfully, he behaved, and they went to lunch. The rest of the day seemed to be a blur for Clara, but it was one of the best days of her life. Lunch in Rome was a magical experience, as she had expected it to be, even better than the previous night's dinner and she ate so much, she doubted that she would still fit into her dress. The Doctor reverted to his faux-shocking Italian ordering and she punched his arm a few times, apologising to the waiter. After lunch, they went back to the hotel and had time for a quickie before they needed to head to the airport. What made their relationship so special was that even something so simple as a quickie, which didn't need to have as much of a feeling to it, simply oozing chemistry and made Clara feel every bit as special as any other activity with the Doctor.

So it was fair to say that she was feeling both pretty special and pretty downhearted as they flew back home. She had wanted the weekend to last forever, but in the end, she knew that she didn't need it to. She had the Doctor and that, in truth, was all that she needed.


	13. December

***Hi there guys. We all knew how this story was going to end, so here's the final stretch to take us over the line. I hope you guys get a kick out of this chapter, because writing it, all I could think about was how much I was excited for the final section of this chapter. And of course, I didn't end it there. I was sorely tempted to leave it ambiguous as to what Clara's answer would be, but I'm not that cruel (or perhaps I'm crueller). Anywho, I really hope you've enjoyed this story and I will be back next week hopefully. However, we're reaching the winding down process and it won't be long before I'm on at best semi-hiatus so no promises. As ever, thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited this story, I hope the ending satisfies you. TPD***

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Clara really wanted to break for Christmas. School had increasingly become a nightmare as exams were on the horizon and the kids had reached that end of term feel where they never wanted to work and it slowly infected its way through the teachers, leaving Clara with tons of work to do and nowhere near enough time to do it in. She grew increasingly stressed and frustrated as December wore on, until there was only a few days left until the end of term and everyone else had almost completely shut down. Clara was sick of picking up the slack and unleashed hellfire in the English staffroom, which resulted in one of her colleagues muttering under their breath: "Merry fucking Christmas."

Clara tried to ignore the jibes about her lack of Christmas spirit as she ploughed on through her work, shunting a couple of her classes onto Danny and Tom so she could blitz her way through more in the limited time that she had available to her. The Doctor had taken to largely avoiding her in the evenings as she slumped over her desk, working as late as her body would allow her to. He would however, slip her cups of tea, make her take breaks when she clearly needed it and call her to bed when it became obvious to both of them that she was going to achieve nothing more of significance that night. He kept Clara on the right path, which she was eternally grateful for.

It was just a shame that she was unable to enjoy his company more, when all she wanted to do was curl in bed beside him and lie there in his arms, but the pile of books on her desk laughed at her, calling her back to them. He understood, of course he understood, but that didn't mean that he liked it any more than she did. She could see his frustration, it was written all over his body when she saw him, pulling him in all directions. But above all, she knew that he didn't blame her and could see how upset it made her too.

But she forced herself to carry on, to push on, and to make those last few hellish days count. As the rest of the department turned to videos and sing-alongs in lessons, she reinstated her onslaught on her paperwork and found herself ever closer to the finish line, one step nearer to her freedom. By the last day, the end was in sight and when she called the Doctor to pick her up from work, just before 8pm, she was so very nearly done, it was agonising. The Doctor implored her to take a night off, to just leave what remained until the morning, but Clara didn't trust herself, didn't trust her own focus to hold that long, so she stayed up until 4am, desperately wrestling with the remnants of her work. She had shifted to the kitchen, so that the Doctor could get some sleep. She didn't know why she had bothered, because when she eventually crashed into bed, all her work complete and Clara finally free, he was still waiting for her, barely awake but awake nonetheless.

"I told you not to wait up for me!" Clara murmured as she collapsed into his arms.

"And I told you," he replied with a whisper, all he could manage as his eyes fluttered. "That I'd stay awake for you." He had at that, but as she curled up to him, they were both unable to hold off the weariness enveloping over either of them any longer, and they slipped into unconsciousness.

Clara slept better than she had in a very long time. She woke long after midday, still being held by the Doctor, the way that she loved being held. She didn't want to wake him, but as she tried to manoeuvre her stiff limbs so that she was out of his grasp without stirring him, his eyes snapped open and his lips twitched upwards.

"Trying to escape Oswald?" he teased and she rolled her eyes, leaning up to kiss him. "I trust you slept well?" he murmured, looking at the clock and whistling in response to the time. Clara understood his reaction; they had been asleep for hours. She nodded, not wanting to kill the moment between them by speaking. She snuggled closer to him, feeling the beating of his heart and his hot breath on her earlobes. His hand was just ticking her ribcage, tracing indecipherable patterns that Clara focused all of her energy on. He did this a lot. She was sorely tempted to get a fairly obscure and frenetic scribble tattooed on her side, so that he could trace it with his hands, but she was shit scared of needles and knew she'd never have the guts to go through with it. She could just imagine his teasing reaction now.

"Is your dad coming over for Christmas dinner?"

Of all the questions he could have picked to permeate the moment, of all the possible ways to shatter the silence, that was the one he had picked? It was random, it was unromantic and it was one that Clara actually had to think about to answer. She frowned. She'd spoken to her dad the day of her birthday. The Doctor had told him where they'd be, advising him to call in the evening when they were back in the country. They'd talked about Christmas, but Clara hadn't actually finalised any plans. She really ought to.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I'll call him later, see what he wants to do. Are you sure that that's what you'd want, cooking for four? Because if Dad comes, Gran will come with him." She chewed on her lip; she didn't want to burden him.

"Don't be silly!" he laughed. "I love cooking and I'd love to cook Christmas dinner for your family. It's been a while since I've done Christmas dinner for four, maybe four years, when the Ponds joined River and I. I'm not going to get nostalgic on you, it was a shite Christmas, Amy and Rory fell out over socks and River got so drunk that she puked in the flowerbed."

Clara smiled slightly at his cheery way of skipping over stories like that. She still didn't know why stories about River Song didn't bother her. Maybe it was because she was a part of the Doctor's past and Clara knew that she was his future. It felt like she was an entirely different beast and Clara's relationship with the Doctor was something that she cherished beyond anything. It felt so incredible to her that she wasn't going to let River Song derail it. Of course, that wouldn't explain why she had never been affected by them, but then, Clara supposed, everyone had baggage. Hers with Danny was so much more real and prevalent. The Doctor's ex had never punched her in the face. Clara knew it was possible that he still had feelings for River, but that didn't detract from them, from their relationship. She had never cared about River; she cared about him, the Doctor. Everything else was superfluous, he was who he was, the man in front of her.

"I'll tell him you want to cook dinner for us then," Clara smiled warmly, adjusting her body so she was in a better position to kiss the corner of his mouth lovingly. "He'll love you for that. Even before he tastes your cooking. Afterwards, he'll probably propose on my behalf."

The Doctor gave something resembling a nervous chuckle, which Clara sensed was due to the idea of impressing her father. Not that he needed to worry. Her dad had loved the Doctor the first time that they'd met and they'd met a couple of times subsequently, which had gone equally swimmingly.

"I'm sure he won't love it that much," the Doctor replied with fake modesty that Clara could see through a mile away. The Doctor was going to use this Christmas dinner as an opportunity to show off immeasurably, she could tell. "But I'll do my best."

Clara tried her hardest not to snort at that and impressively failed to avoid rolling her eyes. She pushed him off slightly so she could roll out and run a bath. He crawled after her, pawing at her arm with his hand and she shooed him off playfully, giggling at his attempts to lure her back into bed. She twizzled the hot taps and returned to him, stripping off until she was completely naked and his eyes were bulging at the sight of her.

"Joining me?" she asked with a smirk as his PJs were dispatched as quickly as he could hobble out of them, which was pretty fast, but also unimpressively slow as he hopped up and down on one leg, yanking his bottoms down over his foot. He was nodding like one of those silly bobble-head things and she giggled to herself as he fell over the bed in his hurry to pull her into his arms. "Down boy."

He kissed her lightly, trailing his hand down her side again, her skin shivering to his touch. She returned the kiss and leaned back so that she could check the water level. She took his hands and pulled him after her, backing into the bathroom. She kicked the door shut behind her.

* * *

Her dad was delighted to join them on Christmas Day and as ever, the Doctor had put on a show. She had been slightly apprehensive about what sort of person the Doctor would be on Christmas morning and it turned out he was a gleeful six year old, the type who would shake awake his parents at 5am, begging them to let him open his presents before the sun was up. She turned over in bed, covering her head with her pillow and he bounced up and down at 7am, trying to shake Clara into action.

"Go away," she whined. "It's too early!"

"It's never too early!" he protested. "It's Christmas morning Clara!"

"Go back to sleep or I'm never having sex with you again!" she mumbled into her pillow, wishing she could watch him process that information. She heard him slump back beside her and smiled into the pillow, rolling over and back into his arms and waiting for the next inevitable instalment. Sure enough, he tried to get her up again just before 8, and she felt that couldn't keep him waiting any longer, if only because he'd been jittery as hell in the hour she'd made him wait.

Not that he became any less energetic once they'd got up. As Clara stood in the kitchen in her pink dressing gown, with no makeup on and her hair all over the place, sipping on tea to give her some sort of energy, he was bounding about the place, cooking breakfast and singing Christmas Carols as he did so, already bow tied up and hair perfectly quiffed. She didn't know how he managed it. In truth, it was slightly disturbing. As Clara tried to become something resembling a normal human being, the Doctor made them both an incredible breakfast which certainly helped her along the way. She strongly suspected he'd poured himself coffee instead of tea, because he looked like he was about to go bouncing off the walls, literally.

Her father arrived shortly after breakfast, with her grandma in tow, which Clara was grateful for. Not only were they able to create a more calming, relaxed atmosphere, but it meant that they could open presents. She had a decent haul of clothes and gift vouchers from her family and friends, with the Doctor doing similarly well and looking increasingly happy with his gifts as the opening went on. Then he opened his present from Clara, which was a handmade photo frame, complete with a picture of them from Berlin. That was the weekend they had truly fallen in love and his face lit up at the sight of both the frame itself and the photo contained within it. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. She sensed that more was coming later. Then she opened her present from him, which was a leather bound copy of Catcher in the Rye, Clara's favourite book, and the Doctor had handwritten his love onto the inside cover. She loved it. She reacted pretty much the same way that he did, with stuttering and hugging and the silent promise that she was going to fuck his brains out.

Christmas dinner was beyond delicious, as Clara had expected. The Doctor had pulled out all the stops and she had to admit, that even she was impressed. His lavish plate was cooked to perfection, as Clara salivated over the roast turkey, with the Yorkshire puddings light and fluffy, the pigs in blankets were a personal highlight (she knew how much the Doctor loved them as he wolfed down about ten) and all the vegetables were spot on. Clara found herself in yet another situation where the size of her ailing stomach was competing with her desire to carry on tasting the delightful treats that he had provided for her. He saved a lot of the leftover turkey for boxing day, which apparently was a tradition that Clara herself had never heard before but the Doctor seemed to be vehement upon, so she let him.

The rest of the day was just filled up with crappy games and cheap wine. Around the point of charades where Clara was trying to act out Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, the Doctor yawned terribly and she realised that that was her cue. She managed to get her father and grandmother to head home, on the promise that she'd see them again very soon, sometime in the New Year. The Doctor was smirking as she shut the front door and climbed back up the set of stairs to the living room.

"You're a bad person!" she growled, crossing the room in a heartbeat to press her lips against his. He smiled underneath the kiss and returned it gently, snaking a hand around her waist to pull her closer. Clara let him, wrapping her hands over his shoulders and deepening to kiss, moaning softly as his pelvis lightly rubbed against hers through their layers of clothing. His hands were in her hair, on her back, seemingly everywhere as the kiss grew quicker, more fiery and then she was forcing him backwards, against a wall and the grinding had become more ferocious. She wasn't holding back at all, clothes started flying in all directions as they got more and more heated.

Somewhere along the line, he managed to flip the situation around so that it was her up against the wall and she grappled with him as he entered her. They thrusted in tandem, the two working side by side, body on body, vicious but at the same time playful, finding that perfect rhythm until they both crumpled inwards, descending into exhaustion and relaxation. They collapsed against the wall, panting frantically, exchanging a cheeky grin as Clara winked at him.

"Best two out of three?" he muttered and she had absolutely no idea what he was saying but fell onto him anyway, her head resting on his bare chest. She couldn't possibly imagine how he was comfortable, as she wasn't. Walls and floors weren't exactly great places for cuddling. Sex yes, but the after stuff, most definitely not.

"Shall we take this to the bedroom?" Clara asked in a muffled tone and he raised his eyebrow with a chuckle. She wanted to swat him but she was enjoying herself too much, she was too comfortable.

"If you insist," he purred. And then he scooped her up into his arms with a squeal from Clara. She giggled relentlessly as he carried her through to the bedroom and climbed into bed, Clara still in his arms. She lay back against him, smiling to herself as his hands meshed into her hair, playing with it delicately as she closed her eyes and embraced the moment.

They lay like that for an eternity, Clara eventually falling asleep in his arms, cuddling up to him and waking in the same position hours later. It had been an amazing Christmas Day and she found Boxing Day to be equally enjoyable. She had expected nothing less. Just being there, with the Doctor, everything felt perfect, like she never wanted it to end.

He asked her if she wanted to go to the annual New Year's Party with him. She had been the previous year with Nina of course; it was how she had met the Doctor in the first place. He again had that touch of nerves about him when he mentioned it, but Clara wasn't sure why, maybe it was more to do with the fact that he'd be forced to drink. Somehow she doubted that that was the whole truth, but she let it slide. Of course she wanted to go to the party with him, she wanted nothing more.

She found it somewhat fortuitous that New Year fell on a Wednesday, but Clara wasn't a big believer in fate, so she just dismissed it. Nevertheless, Wednesday was their day and it was a Wednesday, which had to mean something. So they got ready for the party, the Doctor bringing up his favourite bow tie, that still made her blush to her core when he wore it, knowing that she had bought it for him, all those months ago. In return, she wore her birthday jewellery, along with a red, velvet dress and matching makeup and heels. She had to admit, that she thought she looked great. He looked nervous as hell.

"Ready?" he asked with a deep breath.

"Ready," Clara nodded.

* * *

The last time Clara had been to this New Year's Party, she had been single, dragged along by her flat mate. Now…now she was going with a date. The word 'date' seemed so trivial after everything that had happened but she supposed that was what it was. They arrived at the party together, linking arms as they stepped out the back of the taxi, Clara blushing slightly as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. She moved in to straighten his bow tie. And then they were moving inside. The location was different to the previous year, but it all had the same feel to it, a bit stuffy, a bit lethargic and Clara still felt like an outsider. She clung a little closer to her date, who kissed the top of her head as she did so. He went to grab them drinks and suddenly she was alone in the insanity of the party, people locked in conversation, nobody so much as giving her a second glance. She wasn't surprised. She wasn't special or well-known. She only felt special when she was with him.

He was coming back towards her now, his black suit undone and two champagne glasses, one in each hand. He was grinning like a twelve year old child, the grin that she had fallen in love with. He handed her a glass and she sipped from it tentatively, blushing slightly as his hand lingered on hers for just a moment longer than it needed to, extenuating the contact between them. As she sipped, he took a deep breath and hopped up and down slightly. She raised an eyebrow at his odd behaviour.

"You alright?" she asked, putting her free hand on his shoulder. He didn't quite flinch away from the contact, but she had no doubt in her mind it still had the same electrifying effect on him that it did on her, even after so long.

"Fine," he replied with a shaky smile. "I'm just nervous."

"Nervous about what?" Clara laughed. "Don't tell me you believe this nonsense about 2015 being the end of the world?" she snorted and he chuckled nervously.

"Don't be stupid!" he sounded genuine, so clearly it was something else bothering him. Clara looked him up and down, trying to assess exactly what was wrong with her boyfriend. She could normally tell, so it was slightly frustrating that her radar was so off. "It's just…tonight is a big night is all."

"Okay then," Clara rolled her eyes. He could be very cryptic when he wanted to be. But that was alright, he could be as cryptic as he wanted. She didn't care, she loved him. She was hungry, so she shot over to the food stand to grab some nibbles, collating Pringles like they were fairy dust. She could see him watching her and blushed, grabbing a handful of pigs in blankets and passing them to him. He shovelled them into his mouth and muttered something completely unintelligible. Clara patted his arm playfully. She glanced up at the clock. It was 9:25. Just over two and a half hours until midnight.

Clara set about mingling, looking for Nina. Her friend was always fashionably late; it was one of the many things that infuriated Clara about her. Still, she would have hoped that Nina would be here by now. She spent the next hour or so looking for Nina, whilst her better half chatted with some of his colleagues. It still weirded her out when he talked technical, it was like he was an entirely different person. And, as ever, she only understood about half of what he was saying. She had felt out of place last year and she didn't feel less out of place this year. Then, Nina came crashing in, a glass of champagne in hand and she squealed when she saw Clara, the two colliding in a fierce hug.

"I've not seen you since…" Nina trailed off with a grin. "How the fuck are things with that handsome man of yours?"

"Amazing," Clara replied, a smile lighting up her face. "Truly amazing. I can never thank you enough for…"

"For dragging you to this same shitty party this time last year?" Nina snorted. "Don't mention it. It was my pleasure. I've never seen you happier Clara."

"I've never been happier," she admitted. "It's good to see you Nina, it's been too long."

The two girls chatted away for what seemed like forever and before Clara knew it, midnight was approaching. It was 11:50 and she crashed into his arms, having had maybe one too many glasses of champagne. He chuckled as he caught her, smoothing out her dress and moving a stray strand of her fringe out of her eye. She smiled sweetly up at him and moved closer to him, so that they were barely a hair's breadth apart, completely oblivious to anyone else in the room. In the world. 11:52.

"Ready for 2015?" he asked with a cheeky look on his face.

"It can't be better than 2014," she answered, the smile creeping wider so that it almost consumed her face. He blushed at that, as she had expected him to. One whole year of knowing him, it hardly seemed possible. As the seconds ticked down, she felt him gradually moving away from her, giving himself a bit of breathing room. At first, she felt a touch disappointed. Then, as the clock hit 11:59, he stepped back properly and got down on one knee. Clara stopped breathing. Her heart stopped working. Everything stopped and there was only him, pulling something out of his pocket and saying words that barely registered in her brain.

"Clara Oswald. I may have only known you for a year, but it has been the best year of my life and I would not trade a second of it for anything in the world. I know you feel the same way that I do. So, Clara Oswald, I think you know what's coming next. Will you marry me?"

The clock struck midnight. Happy New Year.

And Clara knew what to say, knew what she wanted. But she couldn't get it out. Not right away. So she didn't. She just nodded frantically, throwing her arms around him and sobbing like a little girl. The bastard was going to ruin her makeup. "Yes," she whispered eventually. "Yes of course I'll marry you."

It had been simple in the end. They had had a year together, a really amazing year that had topped any of Clara's expectations, both for the year and the relationship. And she knew what she wanted. Who she wanted. She had never felt more secure, complete or happy than when she was with the Doctor and in that instant, she realised that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Her Doctor. Forever.

Happy New Year indeed.


End file.
